Showing posts with label Film Noir Reviews of Made for TV Movies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Film Noir Reviews of Made for TV Movies. Show all posts

Saturday, December 09, 2006

The Bathos Guide to the Film Noir of Made for TV Movies


"You should get out more often. See Florida. Hang out with me. Smoke a little pot. Get drunk and maybe fuck some bitches. Worst thing that happens is we hang out and you get into a little trouble."

My brother Jeramey thinks we should hang out more often.

But I just tried that recently. We left the house to go get some cola. On the way to a convenience store I was accosted by some Mexican kids. None of whom were of an age that could be said to be greater than 8.

"Wanna see a donkey show?" One of the children asked.

The children must have caught the bewildered expression on my face. What followed my expression was an eruption. A cacophony of laughter at my expense.

What startled me most was not the question posed to me, or even the laughter directed at me. But my confusion over whether the children where in on the joke. Could they have been aware of the bitter irony posed by a small group of Mexican children asking a white man to see a "Live Donkey Show?"

Where these the children of Mexican pornographers or circus performers? Where they forced by greedy or immoral parents to endure the rapid maturation and loss of innocence commensurate with being ticket takers at such graphic and disturbing programs?

So I think you know now why I prefer to stay indoors. And avoid any trouble while my stay keeps me in Palmetto, Florida. And instead order "Free" On Demand movies from Lifetime.

Tonight's movie download was- Blindsided. Starring Jeff Fahey and Mia Sara. Its current position on the Amazon.com Video Sales Rank is: #40,752.

My brother nearly turned the movie off soon after I ordered it. But Jeff Fahey and his movies have awakened something within me.

In addition, turning this movie off would force me to violate a sacred oath. That oath commands me to continue forth with any movie delivered unto me through a complicated effort. The intricate requirements needed to order On Demand Movies by manipulating their multiple on screen commands fulfills such a standard set forth in my oath.

I follow my oaths, unlike my brother. He swore off our oath because he so deeply regretted ordering his pay per view "disaster movie" Absolute Zero. He will go to his death bed regretting those misspent four dollars and ninety five cents.

But I won't. If it weren't for my brother's insistence on replacing the Beta Max's jury-rigged and clumsily attached wire remote controll we would have never seen Absolute Zero and then the strange sway over my life that Jeff Fahey has would have never begun.

Luckily, right before my hand reached for the remote the words Mia Sara scrolled across the screen. My brother and I both have a crush on her. So he let the movie play, concluding Mia may be able to provide a counterweight to his general concern over the creepiness that is Jeff Fahey.

For roughly the first four minutes the movie's beginning presence is Mia Sara's white bikini. It is lovingly caressed by the camera. Lingering just long enough to convince me the that my empty existence could be validated by merely drawing in the aesthetic pleasure of her body.

That's not to say there are no problems with the movie. There are plot problems. Jeff Fahey's character Frank McCenna gets shot in the back. The gun shot causes him to go blind. He seeks remedy from his gunshot wound and his subsequent blindness in Mexico.

Logically recovering from blindness in Mexico consists of hanging around swimming pools and trolling for women. Frank quickly meets Mia Sara and attempts jogging along beaches with his new companion. Followed of course by a Mexican "treatment" for blindness. A sure cure. Running down jagged cliffs with said companion.

There are some things to like about this movie. Some of those things consist in things other than the 90's saxophoney soft core porn soundtrack.

I do like the way this movie pays homage to its roots. Frank McCenna wears high wasted slacks with undershirts. Mia Sara's character wears white sunglasses straight out of the 1940's. People get shot and there is no happy ending.

The next time you think about seeing a "Live Mexican Donkey Show", can I implore you to instead seek your enjoyment in a finely produced Made for TV Film Noir?

Monday, June 26, 2006

I must be homesick.


I must be homesick. I am watching Sunstroke. Sunstroke is a lifetime movie that stars Jane Seymour. I am watching Sunstroke only because it is set in Arizona.

IMDB offers a review of the movie...

"Seymour uses a southern American accent, which raises her pitch when she yells, making her sound more ferocious in one scene that she normally appears. She is styled with tight clothes and baring flesh, sweating, and trying a sultry eyes half closed look, but sensuality only works when the person doesn't make it so contrived. Seymour is also seen dancing, has sex in a public swimming pool, and gets one camp line `You've reached the line. Don't cross it'."

I can't believe I came to that line...and crossed it myself. I bet you are expecting a tirade on the crappiness of the Lifetime Movie Network. You'll get no such pleasure here, sir.

First, Jane Seymour looks totally hot. Like an older but less tanned Rebecca Gayheart. My affection for Noxema commercial girls knows no boundaries.

Now Jane is what I call classy. And if you know anything about classy, you know classy can never be described as classy. Jane could affect a Southern twang to her voice and dress in skin tight mini-dresses, but every cowboy in the room would never buy her as anything but "high faluting gal."

No matter how many Space Operas she makes, Jane can not play modern. Even in the original Battlestar Galactica you had a sneaky impression that Seymour's character was straight outta the time of the ancient Greeks. Jane Seymour should have been born in the 1700's. She needs servants and bustiers.

I dream about Jane Seymour. I see Ms. Seymour continually fingering and twirling an umbrella under a July 4th sky while the 1812 overture plays in the background. But I lack imagination that way. Maybe it's a purple umbrella and Rebecca Gayheart is there. Rebecca's hair is up. But not for long. Soon, there is a twist of her head and her long flowing curls are released.

Maybe that was just a little too much info for some...