Review – Sniper

The first time I saw this (I think it was in theaters at the time), I went into it thinking that being a military sniper would actually be an interesting thing to do. Boy, not if this story is any indication. The shooting sequences are fun, but the rest of it is a dreadful mash about an old Marine paired up with a rookie intel bureaucrat for a sniping mission in the jungles of Panama. They’re barely out of the base before they start bickering with each other, which continues for almost all of the rest of the movie. Indeed, the two spend more time sniping at each other – figuratively for most of the way and then literally by the end of the movie – than anything else. What a disappointment. Mildly amusing

Review – Species 4: The Awakening

Oddly inapt title for a snoozefest like this. This time around the half-human, half-alien supermodel is a college professor, at least until she wakes up with a transforming-into-a-monster problem. Her “uncle” (Ben Cross, who seems to have a real taste for roles in movies like this) takes her to Mexico to find a guy who supposedly knows more than they do about the whole alien mess. Unfortunately, the “cure” he employs makes her into the same sex-crazed, clothing-impaired cross-breed from the rest of the pictures in the set. At least it was somewhat better than the third one. See if desperate

Review – Cruising

This movie is a challenge to watch in the 21st century because it’s been so thoroughly robbed of its cultural context. In 1980 mainstream audiences had such a poor understanding of homosexuality that – in response to protests from gay groups – a disclaimer was added to the beginning of the movie. Now homosexuality is “out” enough that most people understand the difference between the average gay guy and the “leather scene” men in this movie. Now that gay men aren’t automatically scary, the production can settle down and become a reasonably routine crime drama. Al Pacino stars as a beat cop trying to earn a place in the detective division by working undercover in the “homosexual underworld” in order to track down a brutal serial killer. One of the murders early in the picture is especially jarring. Worth seeing

Christmas in April

In honor of the start of baseball season, I submit a Christmas-themed parody of a Garth Brooks song.

What’s the connection? In recent years ballparks have been adopting unofficial-official songs to be played between innings at least once during each game. I think the tradition started in Boston with something by Neil Diamond. And from that “auspicious” beginning, the marketing gimmick has spread throughout the leagues.

The Kansas City Royals actually opened the selection process up to the fans, offering several choices that could be voted upon. Every time I’m tempted to whine about the song that was selected, I have to remind myself that one of the other options was “Sweet Home Alabama.” As if the Confederate-flag-waving, racist-governor-loving bullshit song wasn’t bad enough all on its own, it would have been even dumber at Kauffman Stadium because it has no earthly connection to Kansas City. Is KC in Alabama? Not according to the maps I’ve checked. Are people in Alabama legendary for being Royals fans? I doubt it. My guess would be that the Gulf Coast is Braves territory, with an outside chance that teams from Florida and Texas might pick up some followers here and there.

Though it could have been worse, it still ended up pretty bad. We got stuck with Garth Brooks’s “Friends in Low Places.”

According to the giant Garth who appears on the scoreboard and introduces the thing every time it plays, the song is about “good friends and having a good time.” Now, I’ve heard this damn thing dozens of times now, and as near as I can tell it’s about getting plastered, making an ass of yourself at your ex-girlfriend’s wedding reception, and spending your life hanging out with barflies. Of course I must concede that the average “fan” who shows up for a Royals game (especially for promotional give-aways or dollar dog night) probably does regard that sort of thing as a good time, so as the minority perhaps I should just shut up and play along.

That notwithstanding, to those of us who just want to watch the game, this song is pure irritation. I wouldn’t mind it so much if I only had to listen to it – with every drunken yahoo in the stadium singing along – once or twice over the course of the season. But my family and I have a half-season ticket package, which means we’re out there between 30 and 40 times every summer. By September (okay, more like by May) it’s pure nails on a chalkboard.

To preserve my sanity, after awhile I started making up new lyrics. Most of them are hate-filled ditties about beer-swilling rednecks, and they don’t bear repeating here. But one time last summer the Royals ran a Christmas-themed promotion. The give-away was Santa hats with the KC logo stitched onto them, and the between-inning music had a Yuletide flavor. Except, of course, for Garth.

That got me to thinking. The product of my bemused musing was “Friends in Low Places” rewritten from the perspective of Hermie, the misfit elf in the Rankin-Bass production of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer.” Enjoy!

Me and the boys
Work hard making toys
To get ready for Christmas Eve
But I hate making trucks
And elf practice sucks
That’s why I decided to leave.
Well I saw the surprise
In the big boss elf’s eyes
When I tried to fix dolly’s teeth,
So tell Mister Claus
That I’m quittin’ because
This misfit needs some relief!

Oh I’ve got elves in low places
Where the eggnog flows and the reindeer race
To pull Santa’s sleigh
On Christmas Day.
I guess we’ll go where nobody’s needin’ us
Just me, the deer and Yu-KON Cornelius
Cause I’ve got elves in low places.

Review – I Married a Monster from Outer Space

I hate it when that happens. You think you’re set for years of wedded bliss, and then it turns out your new hubby has been possessed by a monster from outer space. This is a mix of the cliché “Mars needs women” procreation plot and 50s-era “my neighbor is up to no good” paranoia. And boy, do these things hate house pets. Of course that’s understandable, as it turns out dogs are the only things that know how to kill them. The effects are interesting in a low-budget sort of way, but otherwise this is remarkable only for the starring role played by Thomas Tryon back in his pre-novel-writing days. See if desperate

Review – War Wolves

This is one of those movies in which all the elements compete with one another to see which can be the worst. The acting is terrible. The werewolf makeup consists of bad contacts, fake teeth, fake ears and oversized, brown noses, so you can imagine for yourself how well that worked. But the champion of awfulness in this crap parade has to be the script. All the characters talk in that snarky, pseudo-witty banter style of dialogue that infects the writing of many second-year college students. It’s always a shame when they don’t grow out of it before someone gives them a budget for an actual movie. After all, it’s called “sophomoric” for a reason. See if desperate

Review – Warriors of Virtue

If you’re going to take this one on, it’ll help a lot if you can arrange to be about eight years old. That’ll give you two big advantages. First, you’ll be somewhere around the age this is clearly intended for. And second, you’ll be too young to remember the last time Hollywood tried making a fantasy movie with humanoid kangaroos in it. I mean really, what’s the excuse here? It might work if Ice T doesn’t play any of them? Kung fu marsupials notwithstanding, this is a fairly standard boy-transported-to-a-fantasy-kingdom tale with plenty of bad acting and stuntmen flying around on wires. Mildly amusing