Tag Archives: Bad Movies

Hellbound

Last night I was listlessly watching the channel channel, the usual endless parade of crappy offerings scrolling round and round. Suddenly, a movie description yanked me out of my stupor. Something along the lines of “Chuck Norris as a Chicago cop trying to keep the evil sceptor out of the hands of the devil.” I underestimated what I was about to view, that’s for certain.

Hellbound turned out to be even better than it sounded.

For starters, it’s a circa 1993 Miami Vice rip off. Chuck Norris is Kung-fu Grip Chicago Cop Frank Shatter. His partner is the quintessential neatly dreadlocked, effeminate and non-threatening, endlessly wise-cracking Black man played by an “actor” named Calvin Levels. The IMDB links to a Calvin Levels who is most assuredly not the Calvin Levels in this movie, because that Calvin Levels is an older white actor while the Calvin Levels in Hellbound is none of those things.

Levels gets a lot of weird lines that are either cloying and ineffectual in-jokes about his character’s sexuality or just painfully bad writing, such as when he tells Norris that the reason he told him to turn left because “he was tired of (Norris) going straight all the time.”

So anyway, Shatter (Norris) and Jackson (Levels) are partners and for some reason they have to accompany the body of a murdered rabbi back to Jerusalem and answer some questions for the Israeli police. The biggest question, why a demon needed to go to Chicago in person to kill this rabbi, is never answered. Apparently, despite having loyal satanic minions, this particular demon is a bit of a control freak.

So Shatter and Jackson go off to Jerusalem, Jackson protesting all the way because, as a Black man, it’s cruel to make him miss the basketball playoffs. It’s necessary for Jackson to go because otherwise there’s no one to play the comic foil to the lovable pickpocket scamp they of course take under their wing. (And then forget about in the middle of a car chase – presumably the kid spends 45 minutes of the movie laying on the floor in the backseat of their car???)

But I’m getting ahead of myself. Jackson and Shatter go to Israel. Jackson is allowed to cart a priceless gold sceptor-top in his jacket pocket, despite the fact that it is the murder weapon. And a priceless and mysterious artifact. And the murder weapon. Did I mention that?

Now, of course, before they head off to Israel for much wackiness, they show the sceptor-top to a beautiful archeologist at The University, for reasons that are too stupid to bother to explain, but which do explain to us that it’s a priceless and mysterious artifact. She tells them that the sceptor belonged on the staff of a demon, but some monk broke the staff into 9 parts and buried it in 9 different holy places so that it could never be put back together – although the monk left a map that shows where each piece is located of course.

She knows this because her boss, who is played by the guy who does the voice of the baby on The Family Guy just happens to specialize in this particular myth but he can’t talk to them because he’s on a dig in…Jerusalem.

You’ll never guess where that’s going.

So Shatter and Jackson go to Jerusalem, which is portrayed basically as Baghdad circa 1932 so that we can have much Indiana Jones type wackiness while the producers take advantage of the non-union ultra cheap labor, er, I mean, the authentic locations.

We learn that “flea market” is Israeli for “swap meet.” Really. But that’s not my favorite part of the movie. My favorite part is when Shatter and Jackson wait for the Jerusalem police department to close for the night, break in, disarm the police station’s night security guard and…

They wait for the police station to close. For the night. They break in to the police station, which is closed, for the night. The police station has a security guard.

Excuse me, I have to put my head down for a moment.

You know, what happens in this movie isn’t really important. What is important is that this film take it’s place at the right hand of the Exorcist II in the temple of Bad, Bad Movies. Although Hellbound lacks a drunk Richard Burton, James Earl Jones barfing up a leopard, or a gratuitous Linda Blair tap-dancing sequence, it is, nevertheless, a thing of great Badness.

This fine, fine film, incidentally, was directed by stuntman Aaron Norris, brother of Chuck Norris. What a wacky coincidence!

admit it

You want to see Gigli every bit as much as I do.

“Review: Ben and J-Lo’s ‘Gigli’: It’s Turkey Time, Gobble, Gobble”

It’s not so easy to make a great howler of a bad movie. In recent years, Madonna ‘s made more than her share: “Shanghai Surprise,” “Swept Away,” “Who’s That Girl,” among them.

In 2001, Mariah Carey starred in “Glitter,” which has only aged badly since its laughable premiere. And then there’s “Showgirls,” “Striptease,” “The Postman,” “Waterworld,” “Ishtar,” and the perceived king of kings, “Heaven’s Gate.”

Now add to the very top of the list, “Gigli” — directed by Martin Brest, who actually has another title on the list already: “Meet Joe Black.”

Witless, coarse, and vulgar, “Gigli” is worse than its advance buzz could have indicated. Starring real-life tabloid lovers Ben Affleck and Jennifer Lopez, the film — if you can call it that — is a total, mindless disaster. Sitting in a screening last night with reviewers and feature writers, I could only think of one word: stupefying.

As many who were there muttered on the way out: “What were they thinking?”

First, the acting: Lopez and Affleck may have chemistry at home, but they have none here. Affleck comes off the worst. As hitman Larry Gigli, Affleck seems to be doing a bad imitation of James Gandolfini as Tony Soprano.

A thuggish Brooklyn-esque accent comes and goes, and Affleck never figures out whether he’s a good guy or a bad guy. While these gears are turning in his head, you can’t help notice that he’s a hitman wearing a luxurious Gucci leather jacket and gorgeous silk tops. He also appears to be wearing Ted Danson’s toupee from “Cheers.”

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Then Friedman really starts to pick on the film.

Come on, the buzz is amazing. Just look at what other critics have to say:

“I was shocked,” says “Good Morning America”’s Joel Siegel. “It’s very bad storytelling.”

“It’s horrible,” moans Roger Friedman of Foxnews.com. “The worst movie ever made.”

And those two made it to the end of Monday night’s screening of Ben Affleck (search) and Jennifer Lopez’s (search) ultra-hyped “Gigli.” More than one person walked out.

The buzz on Ben and Jen’s first movie is so bad – think Madonna’s “Swept Away” — Revolution Studios even had trouble filling the L.A. premiere, giving seats usually reserved for stars to the fans waiting outside.

“It’s definitely not a fastball down the middle,” Revolution partner Tom Sherak admitted to The Post. “It’s a curve ball.”

What are you waiting for? Somebody needs to order us tickets pronto! Still not convinced? Check out these words from CNS, the ever-(unintentionally)-hilarious Catholic News Service:

On a much more disturbing level, the narrative is fueled by a warped view of sexuality inconsistent with Catholic teachings on the subject. Beneath the banality of the offensive sexual banter which pervades much of the dialogue is a more insidious denial of objective moral norms concerning sexual intimacy. Brest seems to suggest that sexuality is merely a malleable social construct — illustrated by Ricki’s waffling proclivities. The film’s moral relativism is summed up by Gigli’s mother (Lainie Kazan), who, shrugging off Ricki’s homosexuality, states, “Life is not always black and white” — in other words, there is no objective morality, only subjective shades of gray.

In “Gigli,” Lopez has hit new J-lows. If her next pairing with Affleck in the soon to be released “Jersey Girl” is anything like this clunker, she may be known as Jenny from the schlock.

Due to a sexual encounter, excessive sexually explicit and rough language, as well as profanity and brief strong violence, the USCCB Office for Film & Broadcasting classification is O — morally offensive. The Motion Picture Association of America rating is R — restricted.

O for Offensive. What more can I say, really?

Wild Wild West

At the video store Saturday night I decided we should rent something really bad, try to find something to join Exorcist II et al in the Pantheon of Bad. We settled on Wild, Wild West. It wasn’t Bad, just bad; but it was a Bad Mistake to rent that sucker. First of all, everyone involved in that movie should have known better. Well, except maybe Salma Hayek. It was jaw-droppingly bad. The writing, directing, acting, pacing, special effects, score, sound design, lighting design, costume design – all bad. So bad I kept having to rewind the tape because I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. The opening sequence – the sequence that is supposed to suck you in and set the tone of the movie – SUCKED. That’s not a good start at all. And it was downhill from there.

Does it have rewatchability? Hell no. We shut it off after 45 minutes and went to bed. We never even bothered to finish it on Sunday. It was just so damn sloppy. Personal favorite bad moment: Will Smith stops a horse-drawn wagon full of nitroglycerin just as it skids up to a cliff. He’s, of course, hanging off the edge of the cliff. He gets the horses to back up and turns around to face the deep ravine he just nearly plummeted into. He looks across the chasm at the saloon, spots his nemesis, and then walks straight toward the saloon. As in straight across the chasm? Is he Wiley Coyote all of a sudden? You can hear his footsteps as he leaves the frame, proving that everyone involved cared so little about the movie that they forgot that there was a cliff, apparently. And that they didn’t care enough to Foley the sounds of boots walking on dirt. Yes, his footsteps are hardsoles walking on a tile or other hard surface. It’s very very jarring. If you don’t care enough to ensure a little continuity why should I care enough to finish your movie?

Director Barry Sonnenfield should have known better. Before you point out that he was Executive Producer of the short-lived Fantasy Island remake let me point out that he was also EP of the fabulous and short-lived show Maximum Bob. He should have known better.

I was really worried I wouldn’t be able to get through this entry without typing the word “ergo”, but I made it.

If they make it, I will watch

I enjoyed the Jaws reissue on DVD so much the other night that I felt compelled to watch the Jaws 2 reissue. I rented this one, I did not buy it. Let’s be clear – I may be crazy but I’m not stupid.

Jaws 2 was pretty awful. I knew it was bad going in, but I really didn’t remember it being this, well, awful.

There’s a fine line between bad and awful. But if you can transcend mere awfulness, you can reach the sublime state of Bad, which is more good than bad, really.

I believe I’ve explained all this to you before. My problem was that I had 4 mixed up with Jaws 3/3-D (the one at Sea World) which was was a bad/good interlude bordering on Bad before the franchise descended into bad/awful territory in Jaws 4D, wherein our hero pursues Brody’s widow and a drunk pilot played by Michael Caine to the ends of the earth.

You think the shark isn’t our hero? Oh baby, you haven’t seen all 4 of these in a row in a while have you? Yikes.

This took a deeper toll on me than the time we watched all of the Planet of the Apes movies – in their entirety – more than once over the course of one weekend. I thought I was made of stronger stuff but clearly I was mistaken. How do I know this? Because after I finished viewing Jaws 2 I got it into my head that watching a series of inferior sequels in one stretch was a good idea.

I not only watched Ace Ventura, Pet Detective, but I laughed. I didn’t laugh nearly as hard at Ace as I did at my next selection, the unintentionally hilarious Halloween 2.

I swear to you Donald Pleasance is method acting and has apparently been given the instruction to feel the pain of Cornelius in Escape from the Planet the Apes. He delivers a line and then shuffles off in this lurching way I can’t describe. Why does he walk that way? We never see his feet, maybe he’s wearing McDowell’s Ape-suit feet, necessitating the otherwise illogical loping/shuffling gait but still not explaining why he swings his arms that way. I simply don’t get it. Neither does Jamie Lee Curtis, which may be why her character spends the whole film hiding not only from her brother, but everyone else in the cast.

Do not try this at home, that’s all I have to say.