Inevitable Disasters

3B Theater Update!

2008-11-29T03:14:00.000-06:00

A quick post to let you all know that I have a new review for Death Laid an Egg, Guilio Questi's oddball ode to murder and chicken-farming, over at the old website. Brazen and brash, the film is a total Jedi-Mind@#%k on both the audience and on the gialli genre in general. Please check it out, and let me know what you think.

Thanks!

We (Don't) Got Wood.

2008-11-23T02:02:00.007-06:00

Man, first they get there sorry asses swept -- again! -- in the playoffs, and now they announced they're not going to re-sign Kerry Wood.

I saw him throw a 3-2 yacker once to Todd Helton from the Rockpile at Coors Field that made my knees buckle a half-a-mile away. Helton never had a chance. And I know the guy had his detractors, but speaking frankly, they're [expletive deleted]ing morons -- who never struck out twenty guys in one ball game while allowing no walks and one hit that on any other day could have been an error, or tried to win more than fifteen games in a season with a collection of Molotov cocktails in the bullpen.

Screw them. And screw the Cubs.

I'm done.

So long Woody.

Crystal Lynn, 1961-1978

2008-11-08T05:05:00.011-06:00

I remember clearly the day my sister died:

November 7, 1978.

She was 17 years old. A senior.

It was a Tuesday. Evening.

I remember the day my sister died because I was the one who first answered the door when the Adams County Sheriff's deputy showed up with my Uncle Harry in tow.

I remember opening the door after the heavy knock, the doorbell long broken. The deputy was looking at his shoes, or maybe inspecting the cement floor of the garage. Uncle Harry looked odd, flushed. Maybe out of breath. He didn't look at me or say anything as he lead the deputy up the steps and inside. Sensing something was wrong, I beat a hasty, back-pedaling retreat, bumping into my mother who also came to the door to see who it was.

As I faded into the background, Uncle Harry took my mom firmly by the shoulders, said something I couldn't quite make out, then "Sue" -- he always called her Sue, her middle name, instead of Sandy, "Chris is dead."

She died in a two car collision. Gravel road. Blind corner. No stop signs. No yield signs. No fault.

One dead.

Then my mother screamed. No moment of hesitation, no pause or moment to let it sink in, what she'd heard. She just screamed. At first guttural, then a mournful wail that seemed fueled from somewhere harsh and bottomless, then collapsed into her brother's arms and began beating him on the back with her fists, raging against whatever power that decided to kick our family in the teeth again.

It had been a horrible twelve months for my clan. A year earlier, after a freak accident, my father went to the hospital and never came back. Too much blood thinner followed by too much coagulant sent a clot rocketing through his system until it got stuck and fried his brain. The machines kept him alive for a few more days, then the decision was made to pull the plug. He left behind a wife and five children, two sisters and three brothers.

Chris was the oldest sibling, I was the youngest; seven going on eight at the time I opened that door.

As the screaming continued unabated, frightened, unable to process the scene properly, I continued my clumsy retreat, to get away from that awful, awful noise. Out of the kitchen, through the living room, down the long hallway to the back bathroom where I slammed the door and collapsed back against it, hands clamped over my ears, slouching, contracting and curling into a really small rock.

Not again.

But the noise wouldn't stop no matter how hard I wanted it to go away.

I don't remember who found me, or when or how. It's gone. Blocked. The next thing I remember was our house was suddenly inundated with weeping relatives and cousins who looked at me funny. I also made the mistake of watching the evening news and saw footage of Chris's flattened Oldsmobile; a grotesque cartoon caricature of a crushed auto straight out of a Saturday morning cartoon. It was a decision I still regret making to this very day.

Looking back over the intervening thirty years, speaking frankly, it's been a tough go. The best way to describe my family in one word is volatile. And if you wanted to use two words: Highly volatile. Teetering on the brink when dad died, Chris's untimely death sent us into a tailspin that it never recovered from. Lots of simmering sibling animosity, survivor's guilt, and self-loathing led to eruptions of violence that were just waiting for an excuse, any excuse to detonate; threats, abuse and ugly confrontations, followed by, and made infinitely worse by, a strange silence and a sense that if we just ignored what just happened, a macabre game of let's pretend, then it must not have happened at all. Right? Or worse yet, accepting or taking the blame or fault for everything, and I mean everything, in a wrong-headed approach to keep the uneasy peace.

Blessed are the peacemakers, right?

Bullshit. We're a cursed and repressed lot.

But it worked, sort of. Cyclical in nature, our passive-aggressiveness, it wasn't long before the fires got stoked up, tempers flared, and people got hurt again.

But you took it. You took the lumps and buried the scars, emotional and physical, and buried them deep, and you soldiered on. Why? For a mother who tried so hard to keep things together and "normal." So much so that she made a bad situation infinitely worse by her actions and, more often, inaction. And worse yet, using the "family guilt" to try and keep things together for nothing more than an appearance of normalcy.

I try not to blame her for this. Some days it's hard. Some days I'm proud of her, others I felt like I've been thrown under a bus.

Sad; but that's just the way it was, and still is.

I'm sure our story isn't an isolated one. Tragedy is not exclusive. And I'm no saint in this story. I bear as much fault, real fault, as anyone else. Things have scabbed over pretty good over the years, but too much picking and tearing have left some permanent damage. In the end, we fake it good most times, the whole family thing. In fact, I'd say we got it down to a science.

But in all honesty, it wasn't just my sister who died thirty years ago, today.

Tune-Age Tuesdays: Cartoon Groovies...

2008-11-04T14:55:00.003-06:00

"Jabberjaw" performed by Pain:

"Yogi Bear" performed by High School Jim:

Need a Laugh? Here ya go:

2008-11-02T02:36:00.003-06:00

The Secret Wars Re-Enactment Society.

Yeah, I know that's been around forever and a day. I don't care -- it still cracks me up.

In Memoriam: Neal Hefti 1922-2008

2008-10-21T21:25:00.006-05:00

Composer Neal Hefti passed away last week. Hefti, a native of Hastings, NE, my old hometown, was an old school big-band swinger who played and composed for the likes of Harry James and Charlie Spivak. Despite this pedigree, most people only know that Hefti was the one who penned the highly obnoxious but very memorable theme to the old Batman TV show, but few also realize he also composed the theme to The Odd Couple. However, it was Hefti's penchant for forlorn horns and trippy guitar solos for the theme of a criminally overlooked western called Duel at Diablo that I've had stuck in my head since I heard the word that he was no longer with us.

Rest in Peace, sir.

The Theme from Duel at Diablo (with lyrics):

The Instrumental Version:

What the Hell?!? Jaws The Revenge

2008-10-11T21:02:00.007-05:00

So I got together with some friends the other night for an evening of beer and movies and general steam venting after another collective crappy week. The theme for the evening was Franchise Killers, and first up was JAWS IV a/k/a JAWS the Revenge -- a film I hadn't seen since I forked over at the Box Office, and as the DVD reached the absolutely hilarious climax where the shark jumps out of the water and is harpooned on the end of the boat, vomits up a copious amount of blood, until the boat breaks apart, and then our latest rendition of Bruce -- a/k/a the Shark that Roared -- slowly sinks beneath the waves, fade to happy ending etc. etc. etc...I put my beer down and braced myself for the high hilarity. Roar, baby. Roar!

So, imagine my surprise when THIS happened instead:

What the hell?!? Did that shark just f@#%ing explode?!? Did I miss the part where they nitro-tipped the boat? What? Was that a rare strain of Great White: Carcharodon carcharias goboomski. Did she blow it up with her brain? Oh. My. God. And Shit on stick. I call SHENNANIGANS!! on the whole damn thing.

This is what the original ending looked like (I apologize for the quality; best I could find):

What? did they think the explodey shark was a better ending than that? For shame, Universal. Shame the hell on you.

YouTube Finds: Scream Bloody Murder!

2008-10-09T01:30:00.005-05:00

Here we go, our first adventure into online public domain films. First up, here's an awesome piece of vintage '70s sleaze better known as Scream Bloody Murder, that I stumbled upon while prowling around YouTube looking for old trailers. It's just your typical story of a young boy who got his arm tore off in a bulldozer accident who grows up into a homicidal maniac -- that is, until he runs into a hooker with a heart of gold, and things start to get a little weird when the nut-job with a hook for a hand tries to woo her away from her life of sin. *sniff* Ahhhhh. E'yup, man, you can smell the urine emanating right off the screen!

It's broken down into several parts, so I'll just supply a direct link to Part One (of Nine) and let you decide if you wanna press on any further.

Tuneage Tuesdays: Guilty Pleasures.

2008-10-08T03:37:00.002-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, The Moody Blues:

No. That's extremely catchy pretentious crap, pilgrim.

Trailer Park Fridays: Sinister Soul Cinema!

2008-10-03T13:32:00.002-05:00

A quick tribute to the great William Marshall.

Blacula:

Scream, Blacula Scream:

And as a bonus, here's the trailer for Abby, the blaxpo version of the Excorcist:

Picture Monday: The Towering Inferno Screencap

2008-09-29T13:35:00.006-05:00

"I don't know. Maybe they oughta just leave it the way it is.

Kind of a shrine to all the bullshit in the world."

The Towering Inferno was my cinematic introduction to Paul Newman. Not exactly the most classiest role, and most certainly not the best in his storied career (-- and for the record, judging by what I've seen, I think that honor belongs to Hud), but it will always be one of my favorites: an Über-talented architect, well aware of his culpability, but doesn't shirk his responsibilities, who bucks the muckety-mucks and meets the problem head on and with the throttle wide open.

Rest in peace, good sir.

Trailer Park Friday: Noir, and Neo-Noir

2008-08-22T13:21:00.002-05:00

The Killers. Hemingway. Siodmak. Siegel. One author. One story. Two directors. One style. Two completely different films.

First up, the 1946 version:

Next, the 1964 version (and check out whose playing the dastardly villain.):

In Memoriam: Julius Carry (1952-2008)

2008-08-21T00:17:00.004-05:00

Julius Carry, a wonderful character actor, passed away today without much fanfare or adulation. The name may not be familiar to a lot of you, but if I throw out Lord Bowler or The Shogun of Harlem it might ring a few more bells to those of us who had the pleasure of watching this man in action as the cranky bounty hunter in the woefully underrated The Adventures of Brisco County Jr. and the bat-shit insane villain in the equally under-ballyhooed The Last Dragon. And those of us who've been around a little longer will even remember him in The Fish that Saved Pittsburgh and The Avenging Disco Godfather.

The man in action. (The Last Dragon.)

Now that's an entrance.

Thanks, Mr. Carry. Your familiar scowl and low-burn grumble and growl will be sorely missed. Sho-nuff.

Picture Monday: Brawndo! The Thirst Mutilator!

2008-08-18T23:16:00.004-05:00

(Hang in there, buddy. Help's on the way soon.)

Trailer Park Fridays: Theatrical Screenings

2008-08-15T03:34:00.006-05:00

Got to thinking the other day about theatrical screenings. Why? Well, this year has been kind of an aberration for me, movie-seeing wise, with an all out blitz of actual movie theater attendance. With the likes of Iron Man, The Hulk, Wall-E, Indy 4 and an anniversary screening of Animal House all out in '08, I've found myself at the cinemaplex more this year than the past five years combined very easily. A combination of non-comfort -- a man of my tonnage and cup-holders do not get along all that well, general audience behavior, a second-shift profession, and if we're going to be honest, nothing really turning my crank enough to get my fat-ass into those little seats for a weekend matinée, kept me at home waiting for the DVD, but lately, thanks to a new daily matinee policy, lower prices, thinner crowds, and a few pounds off my butt, have gotten me back into the movie-going habit of my youth. Which got me to thinking about what movie from my misspent youth had I paid to see the most times at a theater. And here's what I came up with to the best of my recollection.

Coming in at number three:

At least seven times (actually a tie with Jurassic Park* but I like this movie better). And this is kinda of recent entry, but this movie made me laugh so hard and made me feel so good after each screening, that I just had to see it again and again, and I kept dragging more and more different people with me to spread the happy hillbilly bumpkin viral hootenanny joy-gasm that this wonderful film is.

Coming in at number two:

Easily nine times. Between the hard-top run and the recirculation through the local Drive-In, it seems that one whole summer, after legion baseball practice, a whole herd of us went and saw this Hal Needham ode to high-octane and celebrity cameos. (And I know it isn't the trailer because I couldn't find a theatrical trailer.)

And the film that I saw the most times in the theater is...

..ass a whopping 14 times. "Aw, Ray, the sponges moved about a foot and half."

Now I know these numbers may be small, but when you consider that for the first twenty or so years of my life the nearest theater was thirty miles away, I think I did pretty good because there a big lump of films that were viewed at least five or six times. And now that I think of it, I've completely lost track of how many times I saw Harry and the Hendersons one summer, but it was a lot. Sucker for Bigfoot am I.

* Frankly, I'm not sure if the seventh time I saw Jurassic Park counts, because I saw it during the 39th week of a 53 week run at the Starship 9 Dollar Theater and the print was so mangled about a third of the film was missing.

Tune-Age Tuesdays: The Big E

2008-08-13T04:24:00.004-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, the King.

Promised Land:

American Trilogy.

I'm sorry. Excuse me, just gotta little something in my eye.

Picture Monday: Birthday Boy!

2008-08-12T15:54:00.004-05:00

Ah, B-Fest. Happy birthday, pal!
(C'mon The Blue Bird of Happiness wasn't that bad.)

Trailer Park Fridays: Mad, Mad, Mad Muppets

2008-08-08T22:51:00.003-05:00

This is pilfered from another thread over on the BMMB about recasting movies with nothing but Jim Henson's Muppets. Personally, I chimed in with It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad Muppet World, and here's how I thought the cast would shake out:

Spencer Tracy (Culpepper) ... Steve Martin (Token Human)
Milton Berle (Finch) ... Kermit
Dorothy Provine (Emaline) ... Annie Sue
Ethel Merman (Mrs. Marcus) ... Miss Piggy
Sid Caeser (Melville) ... Gonzo
Eddie Adams (Monica) ... Camilla
Mickey Rooney (Dingy) ... Rowlf
Buddy Hackett (Benjy) ... Fozzie
Jonathan Winters (Pike) ... Animal
Jimmy Durante (The Smiler) ... Dr. Teeth
Dick Shawn (Sylvester Marcus) ... Link Heartthrob
Terry Thomas (Hawthorne) ... The Swedish Chef
Phil Silvers (Otto) ... Rizzo the Rat
Marvin Kaplan (Irwin) ... Bunson
Arnold Stang (Ray) ... Beeker
Don Knotts (Motorist) ... Lew Zealand
Peter Falk (Cabbie) ... Floyd
Eddie Anderson (Cabbie) ... Zoot
Jim Backus (Fitzgerald) ... Snookums
Paul Ford (Col. Wilburforce) ... Sam the Eagle
Carl Reiner (Air Traffic Controller) ... Scooter
Jesse White (Air Traffic Controller) ... Pops
Three Stooges (Firemen) .. Grover, Harry Monster, Cookie Monster
Jack Benny (Motorist) ... Oscar the Grouch

And here's the trailer for It's a Mad, Mad, Mad, Mad World:

And the only trailer I could find for the Muppets was this:

Tune-Age Tuesdays: Movie Themes!

2008-08-05T15:42:00.002-05:00

Here's a tune that is almost guaranteed to bring out the Solid Gold Dancer in just about anyone.

A full write-up and review of Moon Zero Two will be posted over on Micro-Brewed Reviews just as soon as I burn out the urge to replay that clip and stop dancing. Now, if you'll excuse me...

Picture Mondays: 1941 Screen Cap.

2008-08-04T15:22:00.002-05:00

"I don't think you're gonna hit him, Ward."
-- Angelo Sciolli, 1941

Trailer Park Friday: Outlaw Bikers!

2008-08-01T15:13:00.002-05:00

First up a film that is a helluva lot better than its title would imply.

Werewolves on Wheels:

I'm serious, it's not that bad!

Next, we have a film that is no where near as good as its title would imply.

Satan's Sadists:

How could this possibly be bad? Two words: Al and Adamson.

Tune-Age Tuesdays!

2008-07-29T15:24:00.002-05:00

"Rock and Roll!!!!!"

For those uninitiated, that was Guitar Wolf's cover of "Rumble."

Quote of the Week:

2008-07-26T02:35:00.005-05:00

"My cat's breath smells like my other cat's butt."

-- Osco Sean

Trailer Park Fridays

2008-07-25T14:30:00.004-05:00

This week, a couple of blasts from two swingin' and swanky 1960's spies and sci-fi epics.

First up, secret-agent Mike Connors tries to foil the nefarious plot of a mad scientist intent on ending mankind and then re-creating it in his own image, literally, in (gotta love this title) Kiss the Girls and Make them Die:

And then we head into outer-space with cranky space-commander Robert Horton whose orbiting satellite has come down with a bad case of The Green Slime:

And since we kinda blew off Tune-Age Tuesdays this week, I'll wrap this up with The Green Slime's groovin' theme song. Enjoy...

Need Another Laugh?

2008-07-24T03:03:00.000-05:00

Here ya go: