Down 'n Dirty (2001)

Renegade cop, everybody's-in-on-it, blah blah blah. But have I made it clear that I love Fred Williamson? He is amazing. Fred Williamson plays Fred Williamson in a movie about Fred Williamson directed by Fred Williamson. And look at that quality cover art. Quality!

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
Cop movies are a whole thing. It's nice to know the tropes and then groan your way through them. Most cop movies are absurdly alike and there's something comforting about that. Nice, predictable, classic. To me, anyway.

I will also go into detail now about Fred Williamson, because I am beginning to watch any of his films that I can get my hands on. He's one of those fellows who did the football-to-film transition (like Woody Strode, only with a kickin' moustache) and then transitioned from blaxploitation star to his own production company, Po' Boy Productions. He's a charismatic brother who, according to legend, was not picky about taking on a movie role so long as he punched people and got the girl in the end. He's always got a cigar in his mouth and makes his fingers into little kung-fu tiger claws when he fights. I love him to pieces. He's a dude who knows what he wants and makes it happen. How can you not applaud a career like that?

PARTICIPATION

1. Make a list of every cop movie trope you can think of. Call them out during the film.
2. Take a drink every time Fred grumbles "Yeah. Right."
3. Take a drink when Fred drops something.
4. Yell "safety's off!" when a cop violates a basic tenet of gun safety.
5. Do your favorite Kill Bill bit when David Carradine pops up.

THE SUMMARY
Our hero's name is Dakota Smith. I've started turning on the subtitles for almost every film I watch, but in this one I forgot to do so until about 10 minutes in, so I thought his name was Jack. No, it's Dak. Short for Dakota. Cop movie trope the first: badass, all-American name.

...what are you doing in my post, Joe Don Baker?
I mean, Thomas Jefferson Geronimo III.

It's the standard betrayal, cover-up, dirty politicians, whatever story that you really don't care to follow the details of because you are never really clear on who is who anyway. Dakota's partner is killed in a raid and, for whatever reason, the other cops on the scene try to immediately pin it on him? Like it's a set-up? But there's really no consequences. So Dakota runs around trying to uncover the scandal by strong-arming and threatening people while doing no other actual detective work, although I guess he's getting paid for something. Along the way he meets a sassy young photographer who helps him. But mostly Dakota Smith is grumpy old bastard who is clearly only a "detective" because of a terrible, stonewalling union, and people just sort of let him do whatever he wants. We hear names of bad cops, a DA, and some mobster and they're really kinda interchangeable because you don't see most of them until the last 30 minutes of the movie (because Gary Busey and David Carradine don't come cheap).

One of my favorite things about Dakota Smith is that he is clumsy. It's probably not intentional on the part of the filmmakers, but an integral component to his character - and his survival - is that he has butterfingers. First, in what appears to be a bad take, he's leaving a convenience store with a teetering heap of snacks for him and his teenage son. He drops a corn dog on the asphalt, awkwardly picks it up, and then continues to the car to give it to his son. This is the introduction to our scene establishing that he's a good dad. Sometimes it's really worth it to get that second take.

Just pick out the cigarette butts, it's good for you!

Later, he drops his cigar, which saves him from an assassin's bullet. He literally trips on a tripwire, the fall of which causes the wall-mounted gun to miss. Finally, he drops his keys. It's only because he bends down to pick them up that he sees a huge red wire of a freaking bomb sticking out of his car door.

So what we have here is a hero who does not have detective skills, and isn't the guy on the force with the crack shot... rather, he is incredibly clumsy and lucky. It's never a good thing when your hero's arc is propelled by blind luck. Maybe it's a self-aware joke on the part of Fred Williamson and his aging film crew: how they're turning into old men and doing old man things like forgetting to pick up their wife's prescription and calling their kids to help them turn on the WebTV because it "started acting funny". I really would have liked a scene, then, wherein Dakota Smith busts out a pair of reading glasses.

But this isn't the case, because the film takes great care to establish that our 63 year-old star is lusted after by all the ladies.

All.

The.

Ladies.

Even the widow of his partner!

(Wait, Fred was 63 when he made this? Damn, lookin' good. I mean. What?)

It's kind of refreshing when the process behind a film is clearly a bunch of dudes having a good time and living out their pussy-chasing vigilante dreams. They don't take themselves too seriously and they're not ashamed of what they're putting out into the world. However cheesy a film is, you gotta give them respect for that. Maybe somebody collects their cat's vomit and shapes it into stegosauruses to put in small dioramas scattered throughout their mother's basement. By God, shake their hand and say "good for you!".

The only thing cop-movie-making dudes fantasize about more than getting tail is fun-lovin' hazing, like firing off a couple rounds at the gun range... aimed at each other.

I want to say this is terrible and grossly insulting to police officers, but given the headlines these days, I start to think maybe the writer did some hard research into gun policy here.

I do, however, love the (sadly lacking number of) scenes featuring this teddy bear cop. He was a little excited to perfect his 'do halfway through filming, and took the coif in for a Franciscan monk kind of look.

I just wanna snuggle him!

...and then tell him there's no shame in going bald, but there is shame in a high-sheen combover that is capable of alerting aircraft to your position... oh. I suppose this is Bubba Smith, yet another football player-turned-actor, who died in 2011. Too soon? I'll snuggle him in the afterlife. (In the meantime, Fred, call me.)

There's also a really awkward scene involving a female traffic cop. She's writing our detective a ticket and then he, like, tries to get out of it? I think? The scene goes on for way too long and has no point. This wincing actress also looks really uncomfortable. Maybe she was an actual traffic cop and as the production van was getting an actual ticket, Fred was like "hey, I'll put you in our movie if you don't give us the ticket", proving that art does imitate life and life imitates art. After all, if you can't afford a second corn dog and you can't afford Bubba Smith (seriously, is it too soon?), you probably can't afford a parking ticket, either.

As a special treat, I will end this post with some fresh rhymes from the title song.

Do you really wanna call Dakota?

Everybody out here is dependin' on him

Do you really wanna call Dakota?

Everybody wanna know what Dakota gonna do

Do you really wanna call Dakota?

Everybody is out there watching him

Do you really wanna call?

Do you really wanna call?

Do you?

Bronx Executioner (1989)

The cover above has about as much to do with the movie as the movie has to do with the movies it's comprised of in relation to one another. It's '80s Italian post-apocalyptic fodder combined with random cop saga. After viewing, I learned that a lot of the footage is from the movie The Final Executioner.

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
I'd say no. It's more irritating than funny. There is a lot of re-used footage that drags on and on, giving one the impression that the filmmakers were stretching everything really thin to create a full-length movie. We had a hard time getting through it, so only the bravest and most masochistic viewers should make an attempt. I'm really curious to see The Final Executioner, though, and make comparisons.

PARTICIPATION
1. Use a stopwatch to track scenes from the time they start to the resolution. Especially for establishing shots.
2. Call out every instance in which a take is re-used.
3. Shout "okelie dokelie!" whenever someone refers to Ned.
4. Take a drink when someone refers to Humanoids and Androids and you're not sure which is which.
5. Tally every time you see this stairwell (white light on the left, blue on the right):

THE SUMMARY
We're shown about six hours of establishing shots. There's technology, from control panels to rocket staging areas to TV test patterns. This is to inform the viewer that our story takes place in the future. Then we get lots of shots of New York City to gently imply that this is happening in New York City. Did we mention it's New York City? Here's a bridge. And the World Trade towers. And another bridge. Gotta have night shots, too. NEW YORK CITY! 'Cause it's called Bronx Executioner. Gotta make that clear. New York City. New York City, guys.

That said... the bulk of the film takes place in either 1) a quarry or 2) a castle. It's not even like they say the Bronx was destroyed or anything. The Bronx is just inexplicably the fucking wilderness. But then I can't really complain. It's a post-apocalyptic Italian movie; you're gonna see some quarries.

Our hero is a cop who's assigned to the "Bronx" and meets his contact, whom everyone calls "The Black Man".

"Go to the Bronx and ask for the black man. They'll know who you mean."

I suppose our cop hero really wants the sheriff's badge, and so Woody Strode puts him through a training montage. I do love a good training montage. Apparently a good way to train someone is to suspend them from a catwalk and try to smash their knuckles with a lead pipe. Also, crawling under barbed wire.

This is probably the most credible act of the NYPD in recent years.

The facilities are also top-notch.

The problem the police are attempting to solve is that there are Humanoid and Android gangs warring. It's kind of like Blade Runner, if you never knew what differentiated either side, or even which character was supposed to be on which side. I... think the androids are the malfunctioning ones, and the humanoids are the kind of more functional ones? In both gangs, the dress code is comprised of studded leather jackets and/or denim. In the case of the leader of the Humanoids (I think), the outfit of choice is suspenders and a Michigan tank top. We got to calling him "Tatters".

My husband suggested that he has a closet full of shirts like this and has to pick just the right one to start his day.

The villains are the Androids (still not sure on this one), namely Shark and Margi. The movie does us the favor of showing a rape scene in which no pants are so much as unbuttoned, and then has the villains re-watch it later on a monitor. As Michael J. Nelson would say, "when a movie starts showing you parts of itself, you know you're in trouble".

There are some positives, though: Shark does bear a little resemblance to Dune-era Kyle MacLachlan. (Cat sound.) And for fans of the female form, you totally get to see Margi naked. Eye candy for everyone! Because exploitation movie, after all.

Other highlights of the film include attack dogs that look more like they're after tennis balls than human flesh; shots being re-used at least 4 times; lots of blinky control panels; walkie-talkies; motorcycle stunts; synthesized saxophones; lots and lots and lots of running around; and, of course, the end.

What does it mean when the continuity person is the first credit?

Absolute Zero (2006)

With a catchphrase that will make you want to physically accost the screenwriter, this made-for-TV disaster flick revolves around the premise that the magnetic field of the earth can flip on a dime and that's what makes things cold. Prepare to roll your eyes directly out of your skull.

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
Yes. These 2000s disaster movies have a special place in my heart (and in hell). If you advanced beyond the 5th grade, such films cause you to suspect that you should be having cocktails with Stephen Hawking. You also start to feel not so bad about the times you've found yourself hating humanity. This can be a reassuring exercise. Normally I label myself a humanist, and spend a lot of time personally working to practice non-judgment... but once in a while it's nice to bathe in smug superiority. Disaster movies are the death-by-chocolate of mental desserts.

Another great one is the Asylum's 2012: Ice Age, which is actually the film I wanted to watch, but it was no longer available on Netflix. I'm trying to start the tradition of watching a bad snowstorm-themed movie when the first snow falls. It's a good excuse to snuggle up with cocoa, popcorn, and a tall boy of Milwaukee's Best from the convenience store. A true celebration of all things terrible.


PARTICIPATION

1. Take a drink every time someone says "science is never wrong".
2. Take a drink every time someone makes a global warming joke.
3. Brainstorm the implied layout of the Antarctica research base. Include the location of the Office Depot.
4. Post-film discussion. Who is more annoying: the computer genius character in Absolute Zero or the computer genius character in Jurassic Park? Explain.

THE SUMMARY
Jeff Fahey is a "scientist" who does research on magnetism and its effects on Making Stuff, Like, Really Cold. He has a big lab where he somehow brings it down to absolute zero in a controlled environment. Now, I don't know much about the details of temperatures that halt all molecular motion, but in the first five minutes, I had a feeling that maybe this wasn't going to be the most accurate depiction of science in a film ever. We're then aptly introduced to the... ugh... catchphrase:

Someone call Neil deGrasse Tyson. This is a Level 5 fallacy emergency.

See, science is wrong all the time. I don't mean from a creationist standpoint. I mean that the idea of science is to form ideas based on current evidence, then test that evidence with experimentation. Being wrong is part of science at its most fundamental level. If you're doing science right, you're open to the possibility that you made an error and need to re-form your hypothesis and test again to come closer to truth. And every time technology or statistics advance, we find new evidence that previously-held concepts might need further investigation and testing. SCIENCE IS WRONG ALL THE TIME. Lawnmower Man is talking about pseudoscience, which is never wrong in the case of delusional narcissists who hand-pick data to justify the values they know are wrong but are too scared to consciously challenge, because doing so would shake the foundations of their small and bitterly disappointing human existence, Dad.

...I mean... Jeff Fahey.

So, back to our main character. It's the classic trope of the guy who sees everything coming, and tries to warn people, and nobody listens. He's sent off to Antarctica as a distraction to investigate some general weirdness that's happening. There's a cute little rover with the words "ROVER" emblazoned upon it (note: it's a rover) that finds human remains in a cave. Upon one glimpse of the grainy footage, the scientists determine the frozen body is 10,000 years old. People in this movie are really good at pinpointing, to the day, things that happened tens of thousands of years ago. The end of the world can also be predicted (and is constantly shown to the audience) in the format of a countdown timer, to the second.

My favorite part about Antarctica is that the production crew was too cheap to grab more than the one valu-pak of soap flakes, so the "snow" is clearly a carpet with a thin dusting of stuff on top. You can constantly see the carpet bunching up under actors as they walk around.

It's like you're THERE, you guys.

All right, so after literally everyone else is killed in a freak storm, Jeff Fahey returns to Miami in the next scene. Don't ask questions. It just happened. We're also introduced to one of his colleagues and his wife (previously our hero's girlfriend), their daughter, and two college students who are trapped in the friendzone.

I will give credit where credit is due. Taylor Swift and Seth Rogen are not as irritating as they could have been here.

The rest of the film is, of course, everything getting really cold and our cast struggling to get to the lab where they will inexplicably be safe. We watch mom leave her 9 year-old daughter in a corridor, to face the end of the world alone, while she tries to rescue Corporate Asshole Guy in an elevator, despite the fact that he's totally trying to kill her. Parenting! Simultaneously we have to, of course, do some computer hacking to restore the power. There's also some absolute-zero-proof environmental suits that are in the building somehow. Obviously, you have to go outside for the big climax.

Did I mention that this is all because the magnetic field of the earth randomly flip-flopped?

Oh my God, Lawnmover Man has other people saying it now, too.

My frontal lobe is missing.

This has backfired. I was feeling so smart. Now I can't feel anything.

NO. IT'S NOT TRUE.

Cannibal Women in the Avocado Jungle of Death (1989)

A professor of women's studies delves into the "wilderness" of California to try to dissuade a tribe of cannibalistic feminists from eating men. She's joined by an airhead student and Bill Maher. It's a... "comedy".

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
There's a really distinct feel to this movie. It's low budget camp... the sort you'd find on Comedy Central at 2 p.m. on a Saturday. You know, when you were in high school and had nothing better to do. If you had a cooler adolescence than me, you were probably stoned at the time, because who watches Comedy Central at 2 p.m. when there's not mind-altering substances involved? (No, I didn't smoke. I was too busy doing some combination of sucking my thumb, chugging Mountain Dew, and playing Final Fantasy IV.) Anyway, if you're going for that sort of nostalgia, dig it. Otherwise, I'd say you can do a lot better. We recently watched Fatal Instinct, which falls into this same era of campy movies, but the difference was I actually cracked a smile at Fatal Instinct. And if you're looking for a jungle women exploitation flick, you'll be disappointed. There is one scene with boobs and they're blurred out. Literally any other movie gives you more nudity than this. Sorry, bros.


PARTICIPATION

1. Make a list of the Comedy Central-aired movies you've seen at least twice.
2. Take a drink every time guacamole is referenced.
3. Take a drink for every "joke" that does not cause you to laugh.
4. Call 911 at the 10 minute mark and report your imminent alcohol poisoning.

THE SUMMARY
Somebody tell Fresno that they're entrenched in the wild and dangerous avocado jungle. 'Cause that's what this map is implying. Also, Death Valley, Bakersfield, and everything east of L.A. Was this movie conceived in Kasakhstan? Even as a movie for stoners, I'm not buying it.

All right, so she's a feminist and she's a ditz.  Prepare for those wacky jokes.

There is a boom mic in this scene, though. You can at least revel in that.

...wait, why are there mathematical equations on the whiteboard of the women's studies lecture hall? Oh, right. Because college.

The whole movie feels like it was filmed in the same public park. There are lush green lawns in the middle of the "jungle". You kind of keep looking for a frisbee to enter the frame. You feel embarrassed for the crew.

Is the plot important? I guess I could talk about that. Feminist lady, ditz lady, and Bill Maher, their guide, are looking for the cannibal women. The cannibal women eat men. There's not-funny jokes about feminism and masculinity. Maybe this was cutting edge in 1989?

At one point in the film, our intrepid voyagers come across a group of men who live in the jungle and make peace offerings (like crocheted potholders) to the cannibal tribes in hopes they will not become dinner. Bill Maher is vexed by their lack of machismo and shows them how to be real men, namely by drinking 2% ABV beer and catcalling. Which immediately inspires the tribe to try to rape someone. Thanks, movie.

If it weren't so stupid, I might feel insulted. As a man or a woman.
I don't even know how to feel any more.

Adrienne Barbeau - that actress that you swear you've seen before, maybe it was on some kinda Star Trek, or Murder, She Wrote, or any other TV show filmed between 1985 and 1995 - plays the leader of the cannibal women, previously a renowned feminist scholar. There's big cardboard sets and women running around in face paint and skimpy clothes (but as I mentioned above, not-skimpy-enough-to-fulfill-those-needs).

I dunno. It's a thing we watched. Overall, pretty boring. My poor husband was convinced that I'd never let him pick another movie again. And you know what? Maybe I won't. Someone must pay.

White Fire (1984)

I'm going to peak early and talk about White Fire. It's the story of a brother-sister (and then brother-callgirl) caper to steal a legendary diamond from a Turkish mine.

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
Absolutely. Do not miss it. I hear that the DVD is a really poor quality transfer, so if you can find the VHS, grab it. Then treasure it forever. Definitely watch this with friends. It has a lot of "WTF" moments, including the most bizarre, creepy, incesty love triangle (?) in human history. You can also watch it with subtitles to fully comprehend how, in fact, incomprehensible the dialogue is.

PARTICIPATION

1. Call your local mental health clinic and request intensive psychotherapy.
2. Yell "moustache" whenever an extra's moustache appears. Pick your favorites.
3. Dance when the theme song is played.
4. Take a drink for childhood flashbacks.
5. Cheer for gruesome and unnecessary violence.

THE SUMMARY
The film opens with our heroes Bo and Ingrid as little kids, being led by their parents through the woods as they're chased by soldiers... for some reason. The parents are killed and this sets up the fact that Bo and Ingrid develop a tight bond, are adopted by somewhat shady characters, and fall into a life of crime. Zany crime, though!

Ingrid, in her jumpsuit-with-heels ensembles, now works at a diamond mine. The company office is some kind of leftover Battlestar Galactica set, complete with a red-paned stall that scans one for stolen diamonds upon entry. Death Star trench gunners haul off at least one guy to be electrocuted to death for trying to sneak a diamond out of the facility.

Consider relocating your business to beautiful Turkey!

Low taxes and no pesky red tape!

This doesn't deter her, however, from enlisting her brother Bo's (Robert Ginty, a.k.a. the Warrior of the Lost World) help in smuggling out a pouch of tiny diamonds, which is casually tossed around like a hoagie roll at Jimmy John's. I guess it's supposed to make our characters look cool, but all I could think about is how many diamonds were probably lost between seats in jeeps and cracks in the sidewalk.

The diamonds are intercepted by a (very) Italian and (very) fashionable crime boss named Sofia.

"Did I mention I'm Italian? Allow me to restate that."

Then we get to see a chainsaw-and-gaff fight with our heroes making a hilarious escape. You know, after they brutally disembowel people. The next day, an unfortunate miner discovers White Fire, a ham-sized diamond sitting in a cave that was unearthed by heavy construction equipment, but is still a legend that 90% of people know about. (The 10% of people who don't know about it are murdered on woodworking equipment in interrogations.)

The legend probably should have mentioned something about how it's highly radioactive and will melt your face off if you touch it.

So now it's a race against time to claim the White Fire. But let's talk about the nefarious pool scene.

Ingrid is taking a nice nude swim when her brother comes down to inform her it's dinner time. Okay. And then, out of nowhere, he... rips... the towel... off of her?

WHAT

WHAAAAAAAAAAAT

Ha-ha-ha, you said "if only you weren't my sister" and leered at my naked body.

It's cute and wacky!

It's the ultimate in "what the fuck just happened? did they seriously just go there? my jaw is now permanently detached from my skull" moments. It kind of makes me wonder what kind of childhood the writer-director had. Someone call the fucking police.

And it just gets weirder from here, folks. Ingrid is murdered because she knows about the White Fire; Sofia's gotten to the boss at the diamond mine, and everybody's getting greedy. Robert Ginty mopes around over the loss of his sister's hot, naked corpse, then meets a callgirl named Olga, who looks an awful lot like Ingrid. She agrees to help him steal the diamond. They also start kissing and stuff.

I don't know what's creepier, Bo staring lustfully at his sister or that scarf.

Olga also agrees to take a three-week vacation at the Castle Anthrax to undergo total facial reconstruction to look exactly like Ingrid, so she can infiltrate the mine.

The surgery is a success. She and Bo get right back to kissing, and boob-fondling. It's only after he starts flashing back to the face of his sister as a little girl that he thinks maybe it's a little strange that he's copping a feel from a prostitute who now looks exactly like a blood relative.

"It's not you, it's me. Maybe if you get naked and drape yourself in a towel...?"

We also get to watch Fred Williamson play a pimp (because it's fucking Fred Williamson) who is looking for Olga the prostitute. He mostly struts around being Fred Williamson. Of course, I have no problem with this whatsoever.

Sucka.

So some more things happen and ultimately the movie ends.

I want to take a moment to mention the stuntwork. It doesn't look... professional. I have to wonder how many poor Turks were grievously injured. Take, for instance, two scenes where flame effects are employed. There's acting like you're on fire and then there's being on fire. The "stuntmen" in these shots look like they are experiencing the latter, constantly slapping their faces with their hands and running in a blind panic.

Jesus Christ, is this guy okay?

JESUS FUCKING CHRIST.

The title song (not to mention the downtempo B-side) is also a wonderful earworm. It's the kind of thing you hear at 4 a.m. while on a pitch-black stretch of freeway somewhere in central California and can find just the one radio station on the tuner. In short: flawless.

As I said, do not miss White Fire. It's a film that has "worker's comp" written all over it, whether you're being fondled by Robert Ginty or set on fire by an incompetent crew. Enjoy!