Humble pie in regards to "Absolute Zero"

Because I've taken some undergrad classes, I like to think of myself as a Science Expert. (Sarcasm intended, although I do struggle with occasional knowitallism.) I raged pretty hard at Absolute Zero in a previous post:

B Through Z: 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.

But it turns out that there is evidence that the magnetic field of the earth can, in fact, spontaneously reverse, inducing climate change. There is evidence of it happening 42,000 years ago as told through ancient New Zealand trees, as related in this NPR article.

...well, balls.

But I refuse to accept the catchphrase of Absolute Zero, being "science is never wrong." 'Cause my science was.

Critical or reaction media: enjoy responsibly.

I like MST3K. I like McMansion Hell. I like RedLetterMedia. I like Let's Plays. I like Dungeons and Dragons podcasts. I find myself drawn to media where I experience someone else experiencing something, usually with an element of petty judgment or crassness.

Folks have a lot of ideas on why this is such a draw. Some imply that critical or reaction media are a kind of crutch or vice in contrast to real arts or entertainment. For example, I've heard people say that kids are too lazy to even play video games anymore - they watch other people do it. But listen: what entertainment isn't some kind of distraction, escape, or "lazy" activity? Instead of watching Citizen Kane, you could be teaching an inner city child to read, or drilling a well in an impoverished country. Gatekeeping-type folks can use more "meaningful" forms of arts or entertainment to feel better about themselves, too. You get something out of art or entertainment that makes you feel better about yourself. You could learn something or gain a perspective that opens up your world. But why do you watch a movie, attend a ballet, etc., at its core? To cope with life's chaotic nature and find order and meaning in it. At least, that's how I see things.

I could argue that the act of experiencing someone else experiencing something implies a higher level of engagement: accessing the media while also accessing another person's analysis. I could also talk about how such media is a comfort when someone doesn't have a lot of friends to hang out with - especially during a pandemic - and watching or listening to people experiencing something feels like I am spending time with humans, or I am not so alone. But I think there are bigger fish to fry.

There is a danger to forms of reactional or critical media - I'll admit it. It's like having a beer after a hard day versus being crippled by alcoholism.

The Only Good Bug is a Dead Bug: A film class [bad?] movie essay

            When Starship Troopers was first released, it was pegged as a senseless action flick for 11 year-old boys (Ebert, 1997). Under the surface, however, it’s ripe for analysis. It could function as a blunt science fiction monster film; humanity travels at light speed to fight mindless swarms of Others­ – aliens which are simply called “Bugs.” As an exploitative horror film, it consists of tropes like gratuitous nudity and decapitation. Machine guns, grenades, and spaceships dominate the combat scenes, featuring a bombastic score by Conan the Barbarian composer Basil Poledouris. However, at its core, Starship Troopers is a thinking man’s war film, and a layered commentary that critics like Roger Ebert couldn’t quite grasp in 1997. It’s ultimately a movie with a message – one that is being unearthed as it became more and more relevant in the 2000s, 2010s, to the present.

Who Exploits the Exploiters? An English class bad movie essay

            Roger Corman refused to finish reading an article in The New York Times after the columnist described him as a producer of B movies – not “exploitation” films, as he preferred (Miller 34). Corman began his career in the 1950s with creature features like Attack of the Crab Monsters, adapting through the decades to sell audiences more pop culture, more skin, more scares, and more gore than the mainstream, all on a shoestring budget. Cynthia J. Miller summarized in her essay “Remember: Only You Can Prevent Roger Corman” that the mogul is indeed an exploiter, even beyond the titillating on-screen content; he exploits “hot topics of the day, the distributors like American Releasing Corporation that bargained them into theaters, the cast and crew who worked on them, [and] the gullibility of motion picture audiences and their wallets” (35). Over 400 films bear Corman’s name, but Deathstalker separates itself as a recurring force in the world of exploitation. Its making, reception, and legacy accomplish more than a flippant profit. The film perennially serves as a target for other exploiters and advocates of social justice.

The Final Comedown (1972)

Here in the United States, it is Black History month. We could:

1.  Learn about how Claudette Colvin beat Rosa Parks to the civil disobedience thing by 9 months but didn't get as much publicity because she wasn't the right kind of black woman;
2. Google Kwanzaa to finally figure out what the deal is;
3. Watch The Help (the white person's way to feel heartwarmingly guilty for an hour and a half before going right back to being a racist asshole);
4. Bitch and moan about how there's no white history month;

But instead? We're going to watch blaxploitation movies - those glorious flicks from the '70s that were either empowering or damning to black Americans, depending on who you ask. They feature pimps, violence, foxy ladies, kung-fu, and damn funky soundtracks.
I recently bought a DVD set featuring 15 movies, billed "Urban Action Cinema". Like they were trying really hard not to use the b-word. Why? People love blaxploitation. Besides, when you search Amazon for the keyword "blaxploitation", the DVDs are the first thing to come up. What's the world coming to? Be loud and proud, TGG Direct.

Without further ado, I will introduce today's film from said DVD set.

Billy Dee Williams - known to nerds as Lando Calrissian - stars as the leader of an underground movement of black freedom fighters. If the white man started the violence, does a brother have to show violence in kind? Is the violence justified? Where does it stop?

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
Yes, you should. I'll start off by saying this isn't a bad movie per se, which was actually a pleasant surprise. Check this one out, but don't bring out the popcorn expecting it to be a barrel of laughs.

PARTICIPATION
1. Every time someone talks about pigs, chant "pig" along with the scene.
2. Yell "boobies!" during sex scenes where nipples are present.
3. Take a drink for bad, stock, or lack of sound effects.
4. Dance and "wocka-chicka" along to the sweet music.
5. Discuss!


THE SUMMARY
Billy Dee Williams is the angry and headstrong Jimmy, and we first see him fleeing from a force of pigs who are chasing down him and his militia. He is mortally wounded, and as he lies in a back alley surrounded by loyal supporters, we're led through a series of flashbacks showing us how it came to this.

Jimmy is a headstrong, super angry, highly idealistic young person, much to the chagrin of his parents, and even some other senior members of the militia. He never stops telling people how the black man is trapped by society and has to claim his rights. Even in the midst of afterglow with lovely ladies.

He's convinced that terrorist acts and explicit murder of cops are the only way to wake people up to the societal prison that continues to confine black folks. Some try to convince him that things are better than they were. But Jimmy just shakes his head and scowls as he watches his mom come home from work as a maid, or an elderly man shines a white man's shoes. He gets turned down for a job because he's black, despite a college education. He is pissed off and shit is about to get real.

Something else this movie addressed, which I thought was interesting, was the potential role of white allies. A bunch of idealistic but naive college studies vow to join Jimmy's revolution, but they have cold feet about the whole killing cops thing.

Will Jimmy get help before he succumbs to his wounds? What will become of the revolution? Why, you'll just have to watch it to find out.

So this movie was less blaxploitation and, indeed, urban action cinema; half of the movie is the extended gunfight, and the movie is not shy about killing people off. Fair enough, TFF Direct! Now, in the wake of events like Ferguson and the #BlackLivesMatter movement, some of the topics addressed here, 40 years later, still feel rather appropriate. Have we actually gotten anywhere since 1972?

 

Author's Note: This draft was written on February 13, 2015. Hello from 2021, where, holy mackerel, this is still relevant. Again. Still?

Message From Space (1978)

It's 1977. Star Wars mania is sweeping the globe. You're a Japanese filmmaker and you, too, have been inspired by Star Wars (emotionally, fiscally, or both). So. What else could you possibly do except make a goddamned Star Wars rip-off?! Fucking Star Wars, guys!

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
For reals. You get to see a historical piece of Star Wars hype, as well as some pretty distinct Japanese cinematography and costumes of the era. How they mix is fascinating. I would say this is a must for anyone who owns "Han Shot First" memorabilia, and/or has seen at least a couple Kurosawa flicks. If you've seen Sandy Frank's Fugitive Alien series, do not miss it for anything.

PARTICIPATION
1. When someone says "Jillucia", correct them by shouting "Alderaan". Find the other comparisons and enjoy your outbursts. Make them your own. Throw in some obscenities. There's a good boy.
2. When the evil forces appear on screen, do your best Rita Repulsa.
3. Throw in some Akira Kurosawa references for good measure. Or just shout random Japanese phrases like "NANDA YO!".
4. Vomit whenever the main theme (the blatant, same-key-and-everything rip-off of Obi-Wan's theme) is played.
5. Seriously? It's Star Wars. Geek out.

THE SUMMARY
The story is pretty basic. There's an evil force in the act of conquering an impossibly peaceful people. A wise sage sends 8 seeds into the galaxy. These seeds will seek out heroes who are destined to save the people. Moral dilemmas occur. Adventure happens. Good guys win!

What's interesting is that a vast majority of the finders of the Liabe Seeds are reluctant hero types, who are not at all interested in having anything to do with saving anybody. I kind of like that. (Luke Skywalker always came off to me as an overeager Herbalife salesperson.) We also spend a bulk of the movie meeting our characters and developing them well before any actual saving enters the picture, like a sort of space Goonies. I kind of like that, too. There's a heap of Japanese actors here, and then American ones - I assume to cater to the North American market and therefore a potential cash cow. What I didn't like was the manic muppet direction, which looks like it might have cost a few people some torn ligaments. Actors are flailing about having fist fights and tumbling down hills and shoving each other during emotional outbursts. I feel tired watching this. I am a tired old woman.

So let's talk about some more parallels, but break it down by character.

The Obi-Wan analog is Vic Morrow, a.k.a. the crusty and world-weary General Garuda. I knew I had heard Vic Morrow's name before, so I looked him up. He starred in a 1960s World War II drama called Combat!, and had a lot of guest roles in TV shows like The Twilight Zone and Bonanza.

Dee deedle dee deedle dee deedle dee GARUUUUDAAAAAAA!

Leia is actually split into two characters. The first is Princess Emeralida, who is serene, mystical,virginal, and the spokesperson for her people, trying to convince the heroes to hero up.

For a barren planet, they sure gotta lotta leaves going on.

The second is a spunky space chick who is bubbly and headstrong and cocksure and fumblydumbly. Here's how the story meeting went: "Now, let's see, we can't name her Leia... so what should we call her?"

NAILED IT.

  Level 10 Spunk alert!

There are the Luke/Han combo characters, namely the stunt flyin', risk-takin', fun-lovin', authority-challengin', fast-talkin' young buddies known as Aaron and Shiro. They find their Liabe Seeds when they crash their ships.

He's trying to extinguish confusing sexual feelings for his friend.

The Fire Extinguisher sequence, ladies and gentlemen.

Rounding out the Liabe Warriors are the robot, the noble warrior, the cowardly gambler, and the... mystery person whom I won't spoil for you. So here's some more screen captures.

Catching "space fireflies".

It's a... spaceship. With sails?

Even a space fantasy should take heed of the basic fact that the cold, black void of space will render you unconscious, if not frozen, within about 15 seconds. As a filmmaker, if you don't acknowledge the friggin' vacuum, it ceases to be a space fantasy. It becomes a space insane-suspension-of-disbelief. Just set it on a planet, jeez. But I guess we're supposed to be Star Wars-ing here, so Space!

Bad guys! Rawr!

You've gotta aim for the reactor to blow up the enemy base.

Careful, though... the opening is only 10 meters wide!

Not Star Wars.

X-Wing + Death Star ray.

Now allow me to drop the mic and step offstage.

Invisible Invaders (1959)

Oh yes. It's that time... time for bad alien invasion movies. With invisible aliens. Happy fucking new year, people!

SHOULD I WATCH IT?
Be careful with black and white sci-fi movies. They are jaw-droppingly dull as a general rule. If you haven't forayed into MST3K episodes like Night Of The Blood Beast, maybe start there first. If you launch straight into this genre your eyeballs may fall out of their sockets. That said, it's a pretty enjoyable flick for the genre. It's got a bit of that Plan 9 From Outer Space + The Creeping Terror vibe to it.

PARTICIPATION
1. Take as many drinks as you dare for stock footage.
2. Argue with the narrator in the voice of Comic Book Guy.
3. Take a drink for shots of shuffling invisible "feet".
4. Shout random numbers for shots of clocks, gauges, and dials.
5. Take a drink for closed-circuit cameras with perfect cinematography.

THE SUMMARY
John Carradine (yes, David Carradine's dad!) is a nuclear scientist that's killed when his lab blows up. His buddy Droopy Dog shakes his fist at the establishment and declares, at the funeral, that he's giving up nuclear research and instead going to use his genius in the pursuit of world peace, unlike his dumb dead friend.

Way to make it all about you, asshole.

And, to Droopy's surprise, the corpse shows up on his doorstep a few hours later. Presumably because he has words.

"What was that bullshit at my funeral? Seriously."

Turns out that he's actually an alien who's taken over John Carradine's corpse for the sole purpose of delivering a message. Basically, "surrender, or we invisible dudes are gonna mess you up." Pretty classic stuff. But then that stuff immediately stops making sense. All the aliens inhabit corpses then, stumbling about at a snail's pace, which is supposed to be spooky-scary or something, but is really just kind of silly. I thought the whole corpse thing was just to deliver a message? Why would you ever stop being invisible by choice? It's the most advantageous thing you can possibly have as an invading force!

Turns out invisible aliens move incredibly slowly and drag their feet like tiny children.
Maybe the week-old corpses are a step up?

Nobody believes Droopy Dog when he says invisible aliens are coming. Yet the aliens chose him specifically - the survivor's guilt-haver who's just done a complete career 180, then resigned from the government commissions in which he had any clout - to deliver the warning of impending doom to the world's leaders. Here's a fucking idea. Do a bunch of invisible stuff. Then kill the president of some major country, inhabit his body, and speak to the public over radio or TV. I don't know who's more inept... the aliens or our "protagonist".

So we get to see 15 minutes of this guy pouting. Grab a beer.

When nobody believes Droopy Dog, the aliens decide to show the people of Earth that they're serious about destroying everything. They accomplish this by waiting for a plane to crash, inhabiting the body of the dead pilot, and making him wander into an arena in Syracuse, New York to announce the invasion to the audience at a goddamned hockey game.

INVISIBLE INVADERS!

 
Stock footage starts telling us how the incredibly slow, lumbering aliens are "sabotaging" the world via explosions and things. Then John Agar shows up and starts being an awesome military guy who punches and shoots people. Finally, someone I can get behind. He bosses around Droopy, his daughter, and his colleague in the quest to find some way to defeat the invaders.

This would be another good time to go and grab a beer. Or eight.

Yawn.

The things I do for you people!

Wait. Something I'm never quite clear on. When the aliens are sabotaging, or looking for scientists to kill, or generally getting around... are they invisible or are they corpses?

ARE THEY INVISIBLE OR ARE THEY CORPSES?

I guess they're corpses whenever it's convenient for the audience.

The movie wraps up in a nice, little neat bow by telling us the conflict was resolved and everything is totally hunky dory, even though a minute ago we were told the entire planet was either on fire, flooded, or in rubble. But it's OK, because the narrator slams the theme of the movie over our heads, telling us that, hey, the peoples of the world can work together after all. Except they didn't really, because the problem was solved by four people in a bunker in California. Who also, by the way, squabbled and punched each other. So no. The peoples of the world can't work together.

Hey! The UN Building is still standing! That sure is convenient. You'd think it'd be the first thing an alien force bent on world destruction would... sigh.

Good job, invisible invaders. Good fucking job.

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.