The Agonies and Ecstasies of a Neophyte Gardener

The repository of all my hopes, dreams, and salad fixings...

...or, "How I Blew Over $50 Tuesday at Home Depot Because of a Damn Raccoon."


For as long as I've lived here I've stared out at the raised garden plot out back and thought "I really should try putting in a garden." My neighbor speaks with rapt wonderment about the tomatoes the previous owner could coax out of the only sunny patch on the whole yard..

Well, what a difference psyching yourself up for eight years can make!

Instead of just sitting inside all summer on the internet (like you're probably doing), this year I'm taking a chunk of that time to be"The Farmer on His Dell."  Since I was determined to put up or shut up, and Chris is a "doer," we have started out what I'm calling "Garden 1.0." (That we're not on the road every other weekend for once helps, too.) Previously an annual tangle of weeds I'd apathetically chop down either once a Summer or when it got to be ten feet tall (whichever came first), it's now fulfilling it's destiny as an honest-to-goodness "food-growing-place-thingy."

We decided together what to plant. I dreamed big, picturing crops of such yield I'd have to kvetch about learning how to can things. Meanwhile the Sensible One figured out just how few plants we'd actually need. It turns out that if you garden in a manner that's even marginally correct they thrive to the point where a 6'x24' plot of land can quickly choke on its own bounty.

First came the job I would have given up on if done solo: we weeded. Once done, it depressed me to realize that the maintenance yanking was going to be an open-ended affair. (Right now there's some weird succulent volunteers threatening to take over like Triffids.) I started some seedlings as further commitment to the cause. Going a step beyond, I even sent off a soil sample for analysis. The plot of dirt was ruled fairly fertile, though mostly clay. Evidently low on potassium, it also completely lacks the archaeological treasures or victims of Mob hits I always daydreamed we'd dig up back there as soon as we started digging. Seriously, it was such a running fantasy that I admit to being let down to only find more dirt under all that dirt.

One A Week Reviews #4: Horrible Bosses

The crude comedy Horrible Bosses succeeds on two levels. On one, it's a showpiece for likeable film actors with comedy chops to shine. But on another level, it succeeds as a wish-fulfillment outlet for so many people who're laid off, fired, or feeling trapped in their jobs by this crappy market and horrible economy. As a kind of wish-fulfillment, this triumvirate take on "Strangers on a Train" satisfies. Jason Bateman, Charlie Day, and Jason Sudekis play office drones manipulated by bosses who have them by their proverbial short hairs. Feeling out of options, they eventually strike a plan to knock off each others' bosses in a round-robin of "have mercy" killing.

Bateman's Nick works for Spacey, a paranoid, selfish, power mad manager who delights in reminding everyone whose in charge. Kurt (Sudekis) loses his great boss to a heart attack, winding up under the thumb of Farrell as the useless, coke-head heir apparent. Dale (Day) is stuck suffering the (equal parts objectionable and far fetched) harassment at the hands of the sexually aggressive Dr. Julia (Aniston). They're all miserable, pretty much trapped, and decide that their situations are no longer tenable. Botched murder-planning and a running gag about being on the sex offender list are part of this bad-taste comedy's aspirations to be black comedy gold. It's more a silver, but a good time as complications ensue. Things wrap a bit pat.

Out of Touch With Oscar

While I love writing about movies, I generally restrict it to those I can screen at home. I also tend to prefer the lower profile ones. Every year, the Oscar Nominations come out and, even as they increase the number of titles nominated, I find I've been moved to see fewer and fewer titles. Generally the show is lousy, bloated, and self-congratulatory, though I'm the first to defend that this is part (nay, most) of it's fun. I prefer to skim Twitter that Sunday night for real-time, #Oscars-hashtag-baiting snark and look at the outfits and list of winners the next day. Excellent time management, and I don't stay up 'til after Midnight to see which people I will probably never, ever meet won what.

While I knew I was this out of touch, I was surprised to see that out of this year's list of nominees, I’d only seen ONE of the movies on it.

No sweeping art films about War, or childhood, or family dynamics. Nah, just the one with poop and pee jokes... and I loved it.

 

I guess it gets all my votes.

The 2012 Project: Making Some Progress By Making A "T"

The space, as it started to look tonight.

On Friday night, I had to sit down and admit I wasn't where I wanted to be in my little "2012 Project." I'd whipped up chaos in my home office while trying to finally wrangle the kind of organization I maintain in an office... office. I also thought that rearranging this office would invite more productive, paying "work" in from the Universe. (This is as close as I get to Feng Shui.)

That disturbed whirlwind of clutter settled to ground as I turned my attention to the many other projects I'm juggling at the moment. Ten days between that post and the first, and all I'd done is make a mess. Work trumped my workplace, but I still want this to become a productive space for creating and freelance work. Also, as I let pictures of this mess I made out there into the world in some probably misguided belief that public accountability will motivate me, I knew I had to re-prioritize this task.

(So, what did I do? After the break...)

One A Week Movies #1: Curse of the Crimson Altar (the Crimson Cult)

Boris Karloff, Christopher Lee, Barbara Steele, and Michael Gough? Yes, please!

The Curse of the Crimson Altar, known as The Crimson Cult in the US, is an old-school Sixties horror flick that must've felt racy at the time (Nudity! Psychedelia!) and remains charming today.

"...and drugs of this group can produce the most complex hallucinations, and under their influence it is possible by hypnosis to induce the subject to perform actions he would not normally commit. (Extract from a Medical Journal)"

Any movie that opens with that quote then fades to a green-painted Barbara Steele in a golden ram's headdress presiding over a topless woman in black leather pasties whipping another woman as part of a ritual to get a man to sign his soul away... you know is a treat.

When Robert Manning (Mark Eden) realizes his brother Peter, the man in the ceremony, has been missing for ten days, he heads off to find him. Craxton Lodge in Graymarsh, however, is the center of a Witches night celebration, which involves men in sportscars trying to run down women in body stockings. It also requires young adults holding the kind of seemingly-racy-but-actually-rather-innocent orgiastic party people only have in movies... unless I'm running with entirely the wrong crowd. The party's host, Mr. Morley, is a delightfully dry and withdrawn Christopher Lee. He, along with vixen niece Eve (Virginia Wetherell) and creepy butler Michael Gough, quickly seduce Robert into staying at their large manor home.

(Delicious camp and a green chick ripe for Captain Kirk's plucking... after the break!)

The 2012 Project: New Years Resolutions (or: You've Gotta Make Clutter to Eliminate Clutter)

Two bookshelves, or " one more thing that needs organizing"

New Year's Resolutions. The umpteenth post you've seen on them in the last two weeks. I humbly beg your indulgence on what is to follow...

Every year I start right out of the gate ready to change. The plan is to improve every part of my life I have an issue with, turning it into some idealized, imaginary version. You can guess how well that works. Much like me, I'm sure you generally forget you resolved to attempt any changes by, oh, January 15th? (At least, I think that's the day all the new members stop going to the gym...)

This year, however, I'm going about it in a slightly different way. It's a quest that's as much about self-improvement as it is being responsible about completing the tasks I set out to do. I'm calling it "The 2012 Project," and I'm really the big project.

I used to make a big, long list of things I aspired to do in the new year. It was "clean the office, clean the basement, paint the basement, clean the medicine cabinet, reorganize the blah-blah-blah," all without rhyme or reason... and that doesn't work. I wind up overwhelmed by this laundry-list of minutia that doesn't really take into account how work gets done. If I wasn't doing it in December, why did I think I would do it in January?

So this year I'm going to share some of this with you, so we use the power of public scorn... I mean, "accountability," if I get off track. Yes, I bet a lot of people do do this, and no, I don't know how many of them succeed, but let's give it a spin.

First, instead of just a big list that you can't crack because it has no real organization, the hierarchy is in place with three umbrella ideas:

• Business
• Organize
• Health

These then each drill down into some smaller goals. "Business" covers a few biggies, though, as far as "smaller goals" go: full-time work, ramping up my freelancing, and working on my writing.

Simple projects around the house and bettering my head fall under "Organize." This is everything from working on the office and filing to getting back into the habit of reading. It's a pleasure I cherish, and I've somehow lost the thread when it comes to doing it. Books are a pleasure, not just a stack of clutter in need of sorting.

(Embarrassing details about my life and home... after the break!)

Teasing The 2012 Project

Just a teaser in regards to my first upcoming post in "The 2012 Project." It's a photo of my tidy, tasteful, comfortable and functional office from back in April of 2008. Sadly, you can't see the desk, but soon, you'll see some sadder pictures of what happened here... and hear what I intend to do about it...

One A Week Reviews #52: Captain America: The First Avenger

I wish you a terrific New Year's Eve - I for one have some BIG resolutions on deck (What other kind would I have?) - here's the last weekly review for 2011, but have no fear, because there's a whole new set of 52 heading your way for 2012. 

See you next week... year... week... 

Comic books. I love 'em. Always have, and admitted a long time ago, I always will. Captain America was never a favorite though. He was a character who never struck me as having many dimensions. He represents the indomitable, unstoppable will and tenaciousness of the American dream. However, he is not nuanced. Captain America: The First Avenger, however, is a surprisingly satisfying treatment of the character and his story.

What can be done with CGI now really does finally fool the eye and the mind. Backgrounds and chase scenes are one (still-imperfect) thing, and it's easier for the brain to go "that is clearly special effects." Many of the composite assemblages aim for a depth that isn't earned and not quite pulled off. It doesn't convince. CGI works best when subtle, and seeing Chris Evans' face pasted perfectly onto a skinny body is pretty disorienting. Any viewer not familiar with what he looks like probably gets pretty startled when he turns up into a bohunk. Scrawny Steve Rogers desperately wants to ship out to WWII but is simply too small and sickly to make the draft. 4F, though they should have altered Evans' deep, resonant voice, he's ready to do anything to help win the war. Recruited by Dr. Erskine (Stanley Tucci) into the Super Solider program, he becomes the one-of-a-kind slab of super-beef, Captain America. He even goes from being dwarfed by his friend Bucky to turning him into a sidekick. Colonel Phillips (a very weathered Tommy Lee Jones) and British Agent Peggy Carter (Hayley Atwell) lead the program Rogers gets recruited for. To the stories credit, he trains as his sickly version and is shown to have the never-say-die spirit and ingenuity you'd hope for him to have.

 (Superheroics and a photograph of Chris Evans' chest... after the break)

One A Week Reviews #51: Flight of the Living Dead: Outbreak on a Plane

What other Christmas present would Big Lug Land have for you other than the review of a truly campy, trashy, and fun movie? It's a lump of fun for your stocking!

I love awful movies set on airplanes. Be it any of the four Airport flicks, Turbulence one, two or three, Snakes on a Plane, Murder on Flight 502 or even Skyjacked, dumb airline thrillers are a particular thrill for me. If anything it's a wonder I waited so long to see this. Maybe it's just because I never fly on any of these giant two-story wide-bodied jets... I fly Southwest (I'm not famous, no worries about getting thrown off).

Flight of the Living Dead: Outbreak on a Plane is actually a smart conceit. It confines a ravaging, throat-ripping attack like this in one of the ultimate isolated environments. There's literally nowhere to go, and nowhere to land. Most zombie films turn into sieges, anyhow. You couple that with the fact that a) most people hate flying and b) planes are claustrophobic, and you have the makings of a good, high-concept, Saturday night potboiler of a flick... and "Zombie Hijacking" pretty much qualifies as "high concept."

This one opens up mid-flight with an Apartment 3-G trio of stewardesses excited to go to Paris, a criminal cuffed to a cop, and a group of scientists transporting one of their own who's stored in an icebox in the cargo hold... because she's infected with a ZOMBIE VIRUS. When the pilot, who's of course on his last flight before retirement, powers through some rough weather, the turbulence winds up opening up the techno Coleman cooler, she pops out looking and acting normal, but quickly goes the Full Brain-Munching-Monty. You can't blame her after her guard shoots an Uzi at her in the plane's cargo hold (which resembles my basement more than any airplane I've ever been on).

(Yeah, it gets ugly from here on out...)

One A Week Reviews #50: The Last Circus

A true original, and the most fractured of fairy tales, reviewed for DVD Snapshot.

The Last Circus

Official Synopsis:

Javier, a Sad Clown, finds work in a circus where he befriends an outlandish cast of characters, including the brutish Happy Clown, Sergio, who humiliates Javier daily in the name of entertainment. It is here that he meets Natalia, a gorgeous acrobat and abused wife of Sergio. Javier falls deeply in love with Natalia and tries to rescue her from her cruel and violent husband, unleashing Sergio's jealousy. With neither man willing to back down, this twisted love triangle evolves into a ferocious battle between Sad Clown and Happy Clown, escalating to unbelievable heights in this shocking, irreverent and unforgettable film.

Our Take:

There's little more satisfying for moviegoers than a strong, meaty story told in a dazzling manner. Alex de la Iglesia's The Last Circus (Balada Triste de Trompeta) is some fantastically theatrical eye-candy that offers style and substance. Visually there's1973 fashions complemented with cutting-edge CGI and a modern horror aesthetic. It's coupled with politically-influenced social commentary you can imagine being current in the Seventies. Even those who can't stand subtitles should like this film.
(Seriously, keep reading...)

One A Week Reviews #49: The Perfect Host

To tell too much about the plot of The Perfect Host is to spoil it. The basic setup is that thief-on-the-run John gets much more than he bargained for hiding out at Warwick Wilson's lovely LA home. He starts pulling a con but winds up the guest of honor. Between conga lines, cocktails, and even chess it winds up being a very unusual evening.

A showcase for David Hyde Pierce, he's roundly excellent as Warwick, and the star attraction here. That WASP-y, patrician poise he's famous for balances with suspense, surprise, and moments of violence. He's also clearly having a great deal of fun as his character constantly turns on a dime, going from one extreme to another. The goodwill he won over a decade as "Niles Crane" isn't at all the baggage one might expect, though Warwick at first seems quite similar. This, however, makes his character's personality changes throughout the story seem like a case of "trying too hard to butch up."


(Stay for the party: Read on!)

Big Lug Tumblr is GO

Well, I finally joined the 21st century and have added a tumblr to the mix. Feel free to follow as the empire grows!

One A Week Reviews #48: Prince of Broadway

This is one I warmed up to. A kitchen sink drama of the first order that I reviewed for DVD Snapshot, this is a refreshing change of pace.

Prince of Broadway

Official Synopsis:

Prince of Broadway is the story of Lucky (Prince Adu) and Levon (Karren Karagulian), two men whose lives converge in the underbelly of New York's wholesale fashion district. Lucky, an illegal immigrant from Ghana, makes ends meet by soliciting shoppers on the street with knock-off brand merchandise. Levon, an Armenian-Lebanese immigrant, operates an illegal storefront with a concealed back room where counterfeit goods are showcased to interested shoppers. Lucky's world is suddenly turned upside down when a child is thrust into his life by a woman who insists the toddler is his son. While Lucky copes with his new domestic dilemma, Levon struggles to save a marriage that is falling apart. The seedy side of the wholesale district is revealed through a journey that continually confronts the interplay between what is fake and what is real.

Set in the shadow of the Flatiron building and soaked in the colorful bustle of Broadway, the film is as much a brutal drama as it is a tender comedy, revealing the lives of immigrants in America seeking ideals of family and love while creating their own knock-off of the American Dream.

Our Take:

A low-budget, slice-of-life relationship drama about two different New York City hustlers and the families they create, Prince of Broadway practically feels like a documentary. A collection of belligerent hustlers muddle through trying to get ahead, all the while arguing. There's even fighting in traffic. Feeling improvised and free-form, the film is centered in the claustrophobic back room of Levon's store and Lucky's dirty rented room. There's an oppressive hopelessness to the characters' homes and workplaces that, from the very start of this movie, might make you reconsider watching. It's hard to root for being “aspirational” here. Even Levon's relatively well-appointed (but tiny) apartment is depressing. (Perhaps it's because I'm not a New Yorker. I'm used to space and occasional quiet.)

One A Week Reviews #46: Brand New Day

Sometimes it's nice to watch a movie with a happy songs, happy people, and happy endings. Reviewing this for DVD Snapshot was a pleasure, and I can't help but imagine this catching on with any kid who watches Grease or High School Musical.

 

 Brand New Day

Official Synopsis:

Oscar-Winner Geoffrey Rush “is awesome” (Ain't It Cool News) as a hilariously devout minister chasing a runaway seminary student named Willie across the land down under. As Willie tries to make it back to the girl of his dreams, he embarks on a glorious, uproarious road trip filled with music, magic, and foot-stomping fun. Based on a beloved Australian musical, Brand New Day is “one of the most delightful, heartfelt and crowd-pleasing musical comedies in years” (NYC Movie Guru).

Our Take:

Under it's original title Bran Nue Dae, this was one of the most successful Australian films ever, and it's easy to see why. Brand New Day is a light, colorful and crowd-pleasing musical that somehow brings the lives of 1969 Aboriginal, rural, and hippie Australians (all of whom I admittedly know nothing about) right into your living room.

“Boy Meets Girl” is the oldest story in the world, and it's only the details that differentiate the telling. In this case, it starts in fragments. Willie loves Rosie, but he's in seminary while she's falling from the choir to the honky-tonk (...and there is no way good girls sang about condoms in 1969). Willie runs away to find his drunkard Uncle Tadpole, meet some Aussie hippies and return to his Rosie, with glowering Father Benedictus chasing him like a cartoon villain.

One A Week Reviews #45: The Naked Civil Servant

The Naked Civil Servant

I wonder if they didn't include the real Quentin Crisp introducing The Naked Civil Servant so the 1975 audience wouldn't completely dismiss the magnificent queen brilliantly embodied by John Hurt as a caricature. "Quentin Crsip," though was a role created and cultivated by Quentin Crsip, and it was he was an outsized, brilliant marvel. You'd never believe it if you didn't meet the real Crisp up front.

Sometimes, in a world that expects conformity, one must be the biggest, most exaggerated version of themselves that they could be. Crsip's autobiography shared his life, growing up a unique and very gay boy coming of age in England between two world wars. John Hurt is beyond brilliant in the role, not only does he inhabit the part fully, he's also absolutely lovely in drag. As Hurt has pretty much looked ravaged by time since 1977, seeing him so young and delicate is refreshing. Savoring every word of Crisp's bon mots - and he one seriously funny wit- and conveying the strength and dignity required for someone the whole world is against, Hurt's Crisp is like an exotic, hothouse flower in a cold, concrete garden. His armor was his flamboyance and, out and proud before the world knew you could be, he never let any small-minded... bullshit get in his way, and Crisp put up with a lot of it. His struggles and the cruelty of others are a good reminder to those of us, thanks to privilege and, frankly, physical stature don't get menaced by thugs and the judgmental every single time we walk out of the house. Admittedly, part of his survival mechanism is a certain... passivity that can be infuriating, but perhaps detachment was what it took to make it against those odds. He also seems to be the heart of his bohemian circle, and his fondness for those friends seems to be the primary relationships in his life.

(As Crisp himself might say: Don't fear, dear, everything after the break is fabulous)

31 Flavors of Horror #22: Flesh for Frankenstein (Also, One A Week Review #42)

T

The next 2 scoops in the 31 Flavors of Horror series are two personal favorites of mine.


Some of us lucky few who would haunt the weird late-night grindhouse movies they'd show on USA in the Eighties or Nineties got introduced to many wacky, creepy movies. The nauseating, perverse duo of Andy Warhol's Dracula and Andy Warhol's Frankenstein were no exception. Rare, terrifyingly "other," if you were as young as I when you first encountered them, you know they're exotic, awful, freak-fests worthy of a second look. They freaked me out and stayed with me, they may do the same for you.

31 Flavors of Horror #22
Flesh For Frankenstein

A good deal of the perversity here comes from the duo of Joe Dallesandro and Udo Kier, who exquisitely overacts as the Baron who is lusting after the perfect "nasum" for his experiments in building his specimen of uber-man-meat. His obsession with his master race is all-consuming... and highly comical. You'll savor his German accent as it emphasizes a W in the place of every R and V. (Also: "Pop-o-lates" for "populates." Love it.) Sure, he's building a male and a female, but she's an afterthought. He's got a sister-wife (eww) and a red-headed "Igor" in his assistant, Otto.

One can't imagine why the Baron would be more interested in building the perfect man than in the beauty-obsessed, eyebrow-deprived Baroness, Monique Van Vooren. Considering how these siblings squabble it's a wonder he hasn't chopped her up for parts. He eschews Sis to get his freak on fingering innards down in the lab. He hand-humps his female "zombie" at one point with the immortal line: "To know death, Otto, you have to fuck life in the gallbladder." The Baron is all sexual hangups while the Baroness is all repressed need.


Kier's cerebral fey-ness is countered by Dallesandro, who still wasn't much of an actor at this point in his career. He's all meat as a farmhand from the Bronx who has somehow been transplanted to 19th century Serbia. Van Vooren keeps running into him while he's boning Farmer's Daughters. Of course she's going to want him.

(It's all meandering sass, smut, and gore from this point forward...)

31 Flavors of Horror #7: Friday the 13th (Uncut) (1980)

Many horror review bloggers - as opposed to those of us dilettantes who just fancy ourselves to be - are probably more original than I and not using the first Friday in October as an excuse to post a Friday the 13th review. I, however, am shameless and have absolutely no problem with it whatsoever. What can I say? I throw myself on the mercy of the court! 

There's not much you haven't heard about this one, so I really just pinged out a few thoughts here about the cast. In the event that you haven't seen it... and if you're enough of a horror movie fan to bother to read even this far I'm going to assume you have... but if you haven't, check it out. Since this was made before most of the "slasher rules" were set it almost plays out like a very gruesome version of Ten Little Indians. Check it out -- the original is still the best!

31 FLAVORS OF HORROR #7:
FRIDAY THE 13th (UNCUT) (1980)

Here's what I never noticed before about Friday the 13th - just how dingy, drafty, damp and moldy that damn camp looks. Camp really does look like a miserable, cold place; full of dry-rotted wood and mud everywhere you look. It also seems to be a place so devoid of creature comforts that the killer shouldn't be blaming the counselors for shacking up. They're just trying to stay warm and stave off the boredom.

Anyhow, this hoary old chestnut, the one that started it all, has been reviewed to death. I'm not sure I'd have any new observations about it, even with this remastered, uncut version, but watching the DVD goosed up on a Blu-Ray player through an HDMI cable really brings the chill home. The sound of rain is constant once it gets started. The arrows through throats and axes to faces look darn good, too. This was the first time in years I'd watched it, and this uncut version does deliver a few extra (nice-looking) pumps of blood.

And *why* didn't Laurie Bartram have a film career? She's a strutting, sassing junior Paula Prentiss, gorgeous and personable. By far, she shows the most personality of any of the neophyte actors, including Kevin Bacon.

Adrienne King, who only recently returned to film acting after years of being harassed by a stalker, seems strongest in the scenes where she's alone or with Betsy Palmer. With the other counselors she tends to blend in, though that actually works for the mousy character and to give you the sense that maybe there just might be a question about who survives.

(Spoilers ahead) 

31 Flavors of Horror #6: Resident Evil: Afterlife

 I know what you're thinking:

"Another one?" "Four in a row?" "Tedious, Jay. Tedious..." 

Well, for whatever it's worth, if you're going to watch them - and why not, they're fun - you may as well see 'em all, and see 'em in sequence.


This one adds a couple of pretty boys to the line up of pretty, slender gals who kick zombie butts, and was released in 3D... so there's that... anyhow, I promise I'll split up full-series reviews in the future, mmmkay?

31 FLAVORS OF HORROR #6:
RESIDENT EVIL: AFTERLIFE

Paul W.S. Anderson returns to bring the style over substance for the 4th Resident Evil. Right from the get go he brings green-glass candy lit city buildings and fashion victims standing in the Tokyo rain.

I'm not sure about the "Four Years Later" title we get as, at one point in movie three it's stated it's been five, but no matter. Not important. No need for logic here considering our story is set in the largest, most impossibly impractical underground Hive yet. It'd be easier to just build it and slip in in sideways under Tokyo than drill this puppy out

Let's get to the important stuff? How's are Alice. This go round she's sleek and sexy, clad in black leather and all Ninja-style. Her balletic, slo-mo slash-fest of an introduction is worth watching twice. This time Alice is also an army of clones. She's her own comic-book style sexy Suicide Squad and it's a pleasure to behold. The CGI is impeccable this go round and bullet-time has thankfully been given enough of a rest that it seems fresh again.

The special effects fest really is gorgeous - an opening that sets up the rules, then breaks them, returning Alice-Prime to her humanity, eliminating much of the Umbrella Corporation, and then taking us to the survivors of Arcadia. White the third film's desert parched look pleased the eye, this installment adds color and the softness of nature in places. It also let's Jovovich play something a little closer to a human being again, though she's still primarily an ass-kicker.

(Lots of spoilers ahead) 

31 Flavors of Horror #5: Resident Evil: Extinction

 Another bloody video game zombie movie with waify chicks who kick ass in combat. It's a thing. I kinda love it. This one, like the rest, won't make you want to adopt a Rottweiler, nor will it make you want to visit Las Vegas. 

It will, however, make you hope you're a gorgeous, genetically-engineered model-slash-actress-super-ninja in the event that there ever IS a zombie apocalypse. Because, let's face it... I wrote this and you're reading this, meaning, my darlings, the chances that we are BOTH first-line cannon fodder in the event up an uprising of the undead are probably pretty stinkin' high...

31 FLAVORS OF HORROR #5:
RESIDENT EVIL: EXTINCTION

The first thing you notice is that, like all of us, Milla Jovovich's face has changed over the years since the first Resident Evil (2002). It seems leaner, longer. It suits her well.  The second thing you notice is they re-framed a shot from the first film to excise her nipple from the proceedings...

We roll through a quick rehash of some footage from the first film so we can get to the third point. The third? Eww, there's a whole bunch of dead Alices and a slew of parched, dessicated zombies in the middle of the desert. Is that what happens when you eat the silica gel packs in shoe boxes? They even take a piece of footage from the last film, the CG satellite shot, and re-dress it for a parched Earth. I appreciate the frugality.

At this point in the storyline - and I've no idea if it echoes the video games - the very Earth is dying, and Alice roams the vast, parched wastelands looking for survivors. The sleek steel of the first film and jittery city grime of the second are replaced here with sun-bleached, parched lands of the American west. The red dress swapped out for a long duster. The sweaty browns remind one of the look of another grim third film, Alien 3. The first gang she encounters are a family of survivors in the Sawney Bean tradition of scavengers. Sadly, at this point, Alice's humanity has morphed into something along the lines of a "super-soldier" (her acrobatic ninja skills now supplemented with telekinetic skills) and she makes short work of them and their devil-dogs. Seriously, they devil-dogs are MORE than a little overplayed at this point - though the devil-ravens are beautifully cinematic touch.

(Lots of spoilers ahead) 

31 Flavors of Horror #3: Resident Evil

This week I continue the 31 Flavors of Horror with four from the same family - kinda like if one were chocolate, another chocolate chip, a third perhaps double chocolate, and the fourth... who'm I kidding? I have never been a huge fan of chocolate and it's a little early to pound the ice-cream allusions into the ground as I have a whole slew of Friday the 13th reviews coming up. 

Anyhow, let's roll through the Resident Evil series. It's my favorite series of video game-based zombie movies that feature the under-rated, seemingly always game Milla Jovovich.

31 FLAVORS OF HORROR #3:
RESIDENT EVIL 

I'm not a gamer. I've never played Resident Evil and some days can't tell an Umbrella from a Raccoon in real life, much less as part of the mythos a best selling series of video games. I do,at least, admire the massive construction project that "The Hive" would be.

Not knowing anything about the backstory kind of leaves the viewer in the same position as Alice in the beginning of the film. She wakes up with memory loss and has to put the plot-exposition pieces together along with the audience. (We, sadly, make no discovery that we're capable of flying roundhouse kicks.) A terrible bio-terrorism weapon has been let loose in the giant underground complex known as "The Hive," and only a singing model, a group of crack soldiers and Ugly Betty's boss can stop it from spreading and turning the whole world into zombies. Needless to say, they do a crap job of it or there wouldn't be three sequels (with a fourth pending).