Reviews

If you possess a rather simple mind and delight in watching a "happy" love story that bears absolutely no resemblance to reality, then this flick's for you. Let's make one thing clear from the outset: Handsome men do not regularly fall head over heels in love with 30-year-old women who look like something the cat dragged in. OK, so "Toola" started taking a few classes, dispensing with the horn rims and the clothes that fit her like a potato sack. She began not only brushing her hair on occasion but styling it attractively. Still, she wasn't any great shakes, merely somewhat appealing, if a tad broad in the beam. For that flake to find himself wildly in love with her on the strength of a few long smooches, then to take her to his lair and suddenly decide he needed to marry her, was asking us to suspend disbelief just a bit too much too soon. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for her to find him in a clinch with another woman, but nothing of the kind transpired. You may recall that a mere half-hour into their first date, he was already asking her for a second dinner out, which I thought indicated something seriously wrong with him.

Putting aside one's growing skepticism, for this guy (with nary a second thought) to throw over his well-meaning but nearly lifeless parents and his entire waspish background in order to party for the rest of his life with his intended's loud and obnoxious brood, seemed to be stretching credulity a little beyond anything reasonable. Sure, Greek food is quite tasty while Greek culture once formed the entire basis of Western Civilization, but these people jump around like circus performers and one must ask how many men would become baptized in the Greek Orthodox Church simply to please his prospective in-laws? Damn few, I suspect -- perhaps a guy who'd found the woman of his dreams and was so blinded by love that he didn't even consider the potential consequences.

Providing one of the flick's few real chuckles, just before the impending wedding, "Toola's" aunt incredulously inquires of her fiancé, "What do you mean, you don't eat meat!?" For her, vegetarianism could not possibly be considered (and of course the spineless wimp instantly converts to a virile, meat-eating diet right on the spot). After the wedding, itself (which thankfully was briefer than expected), "Toola's" extremely skeptical and unhappy father suddenly does a complete about-face and blesses the union by handing the young couple the deed for a house of their very own. As they say, that's Hollywood.

A few years down the pike, we are finally informed, "Toola" had gotten preggers immediately following the ceremony (not from their premarital dallying, of course) and they had a kid who is now six years old. She has miraculously retained her decent looks and everything remains upbeat and sunny. In fact, it turns out that the house pop gave them is right next door to mom and dad! In real life, you just know this troubled girl eventually would have reverted to looking less than glamorous and the guy would have become tired of her increasingly apathetic and depressing perspective. He'd probably have been off boffing anything that walked, or at least thinking about it, more sick of all this Greek crap than she was at the beginning of the movie. Following her hubby's first real trespass, her brother and cousin could have fixed his clock, as at one point they'd threatened, which might have formed the basis for a truly happy ending, at least in my book.

I'd like to give this turkey a one, but since my wife adored it, the heroine was sort of sweet, and her aunt a somewhat interesting character, I'll give it a two just for their sakes.

If you put a video camera in the hands of someone with little experience who has no idea what to photograph and why, you might come up with an effort similar to "Twentynine Palms." There's nothing wrong with allowing development of a film to take its own course. Some interesting results may emerge in the hands of an experienced photographer who understands his subject matter, has a good eye for composition, lighting, and action, and who is a genuine artist attempting to communicate something about the human condition to his audience. That goal is not achieved in this film, which the director pretentiously advertises as some sort of minimalist artistic enterprise investigating "the myths of America." One might be reminded of "Deliverance," but that movie attempted a grander subject involving not only the dark side of human nature but Nature, itself. We see here a supposed photographer who painfully tries to evoke John Lennon and who with his French/Russian girlfriend attempts to explore the Mohave Desert in Southern California, supposedly scouting locations for a future shoot but strangely without any cameras along (some photographer he is). He's specifically interested in a section of the desert that is reputed to have some real nutjobs roaming around looking for trouble (a few of whom hail from the local Marine Corps base). Despite the stringing together of numerous interminable takes, nothing of interest happens and the setting is not particularly inspiring, largely because the director doesn't seem to know where or when to shoot his indulgently wasted footage. The couple "enjoys" several sexual interludes in their motel room, in the dumpy motel pool, and in isolated places out in the middle of the desert. They drive around in his brand spanking new Hummer, the wheel of which he turns over to his silly girlfriend rather casually. Ultimately, their pointless wandering gets the two of them into a real pickle because they are doing it in a potentially dangerous place with no way of defending themselves. When they are bushwhacked out in the middle of nowhere and he is brutally dealt with by three wayward scuzbuckets who strangely leave her almost unscathed, we can't develop too much sympathy for him because he's a jerk who has been sexually exploiting her the entire time. We can't develop much sympathy for her, either, because she's obviously nuts and has been acting out at the slightest pretext over the course of this boring non-story. But when she saves his life and he responds by assaulting and brutally killing her before killing himself, we are left with even less than we had before, which is a big fat zero. The shocking conclusion has obviously been tacked on just as the gratuitous sex scenes were, to make something from nothing with minimal effort. This movie didn't have to be made, probably shouldn't have been made, and hasn't added anything to our appreciation of the new French cinema, much of which is brilliant, beautiful, innovative, subtle, and artistic. If this director would like some lessons on how to use all the money he obviously has at his disposal to far greater effect in the American milieu, I'd be happy to lend a hand. He certainly could use it, and frankly, were I employed by the Customs Department, I'd be going over his case with a jaundiced eye. The guy appears to be more than a little twisted.

This is an odd movie in which scenes of natural predation are pretentiously interspersed between innocuous, routine events, serving as thematic signposts that attempt to define and legitimize the director's morbid fascination with senseless brutality. The disheveled, unkempt, often filthy characters never gain our sympathy. Even those who come closest ultimately become immersed in the brutality of the story. The kindly grandmother casually tricks her youngest son's pregnant paramour into spending the night with a thieving family whom she knows are about to be executed by the murderous villagers. Her strong-willed son, the only person who briefly displays any palpable sentiment, participates in the execution with little concern even for the grandchild that will never be born. The victims aren't merely killed but captured in nets, thrown in a hole, and buried alive, a brutal twist to the supposed necessity of the horrible collective deed. Later, the healthy grandmother bashes her front teeth out so she'll look the part when it's her time to "go to the mountain."

All through the movie, this "final journey" is alluded to as if going off to die on a mountainside up in the clouds, a place of ethereal beauty, is somehow a sacrifice fraught with spiritual significance. Unfortunately, the place where the old people are carried is nothing more than a grotesque, stinking bone yard full of broken skeletons and decomposing bodies, serviced by a flock of fat, greedy crows that pick at the dead and impatiently await their next meal. After hauling his mom up the mountain on a pack-board, the strong son simply leaves her there because she insists once again that is how it must be. Before leaving, he sees his selfish neighbor dropping off his troublesome, disabled father, kicking the terrified old man over a cliff while yelling, "Dad, go to the mountain!" The poor, senile old man, trussed up in a net, goes tumbling down the rocks like a cartwheel, bashing his brains out on the way down.

This depressing story is supposed to uplift us? This is "beautiful? It's a real comment on the emptiness of our times that so many here would even begin to believe that. I'm skeptical of the notion that this film was based on fact. It comes off like an exercise in racist propaganda. I may be wrong but I think it doubtful that even primitive and isolated Japanese peasants were that uncaring and brutal.

This was an entertaining flick. The story line was fairly simple but you don't know for sure who the bad guy is until the very end. Meanwhile you are treated to brutal killing after brutal killing as the crazed miner everyone thought was dead and buried comes back to life and kills again. The spree coincides with the return of a young man who's been gone for ten years and everyone assumes it's his fault no matter how much he denies any responsibility. His name is Tom and the sheriff has it in for him because his wife used to be in love with him. The fact that his old man owned the mine that keeps the town alive might have played a role in her choice of love interests. Viewers are the only ones who know that Tom is a nice guy wrongly accused because we witness the real murderer going after him more than once. And we watch some very creative killings, too. The psycho's primary weapon is a pick, which he uses to lethal effect, swinging it through torsos and into heads with equal abandon, putting a sudden end to the pointless lives of his victims -- anyone associated with the mine. Then he tears their bodies open to cut out their hearts.

The most memorable death occurs at the beginning of the flick in a flashback to the original killings. We are told that the killer survived a cave-in at Tunnel #5 by murdering his fellow miners who were using up the scarce oxygen. He wakes up at the hospital and kills everyone he comes across, then goes back to the mine and kills his way through a large group of teens who were dumb enough to have a party there. While butchering these naive young fools one by one, he fends off a sudden attack with a shovel by a spirited blonde, yanking the implement out of her hands, then shoving the blade of it into her mouth. She's standing there looking goggle-eyed, with the shovel protruding from her mouth. Then he pushes the blade home against a supporting beam and the bottom of her head drops to the ground with the rest of her lifeless body. The top of her head, however, is still sitting on the blade of the shovel. It's a great scene. In another scene, the killer rams his trusty pick up through this old guy's jaw and the point of the pick emerges from his mouth. He puts his foot against the guy's chest and yanks his jaw right out of his face along with some other grisly matter. The 3-D effect comes in handy here as gore is sent slapping toward the viewer. Besides these, there are several other instances of extremely effective use of 3-D. You've simply got to see this gore-fest to appreciate the lively imagination and creativity involved in its production. Others have complained about the short nude scene, calling it gratuitous. I disagree. In fact, a little more of the same, utilizing the talents of the film's other attractive actresses, would have made it an even more entertaining movie. The new theater in town sent us free passes in the mail and it was a fun evening, for we don't usually watch horror films and had never before seen a 3-D movie. Enjoy!

Before I start tearing this piece of rotten slop a new one, let me first admit that I didn't see the whole picture. There is no way on earth that I could physically sit through even half of it. I was taking a nap when my wife put this drivel on the DVD player after I'd seen the first twenty minutes the night before and tossed it aside with disgust. I awoke from my nap, hearing all sorts of noise. It sounded like they were having a block party outside the house, but no, it was this incredibly sick movie turned up a tad too loud out in the living room. The so-called extended "family" it featured were having some sort of non-stop romp outdoors, so I got up and sat down to see just what the old lady found so darn interesting that she had to wake me up in the middle of some much-needed sleep. My senses were assaulted right from the start. Some youthful brat with her hip-hugger pants down so low that half her butt was showing was deeply and passionately in love with some cow-eyed hispanic kid and her spineless dad thought he ought to intervene (perhaps to keep her from being knocked-up within the next week). He sends Romeo packing for home and his daughter runs after the car, screaming and crying. She falls down, suicide her only option at this point, then screams back at Pop, "You're a murderer of love!" Say what? Are they serious? Proving that it actually WAS possible, the flick went seriously downhill from there.

We watch as this excuse for a father goes from daughter to sister to mother being told what a complete nebbish he is (just for being male, it seems) and he sucks it all in and keeps asking for more. I wanted to vomit. The oh-so-sensitive look in his eyes made me want to smash him right in the face. Geez, I thought that sort of muck went out when being "an achingly sensitive guy" was all the rage, you know, before even the most ardent feminists got sick of all the spineless yuppie wimps who took their nonsense sitting down and never stood up like a half a man. I had to keep pausing the DVD player to voice my extreme displeasure. Talk about matriarchy, it was enough to make a guy blow chunks for ten minutes, straight.

The girls give Pop a scrap book containing a pic of his tragically dead wife. You expect him to start sobbing but he "manfully" holds back the tears and just looks more sensitive than before. Boy, that thoughtful gesture really got to him.

I forgot to mention the worst part of all. After the interminable football game, or whatever it was that woke me up, they have an amateur hour indoors in which all the little brats and their incredibly forgettable parents perform for one another in full costume. At his brother's urging, Dad and bro do a duet on the guitar, and although bro just can't seem to remember the words, Pop knows every last line by heart, then for the chorus at the end, bro is suddenly inspired. Apparently, the song expresses his innermost feelings like nothing in his silly life ever has before. He's twisting and turning and shouting out those poignant words like there's no tomorrow. Don't get your hopes up, though, because the fun's far from over. As if that weren't bad enough, then comes a game of charades. Bro's love interest has had enough of this silly nonsense and tries to escape with bro hot on her heels trying to persuade her to stay. Ya see, she really has the hots for Dad instead of Dad's bro. Life is complicated and inconvenient that way. The entire family lines up at the window and watches the tearful parting of the mismatched couple. You'd think somebody in that godawful brood might realize that privacy is required now and then, but no, not in that house, where everyone needs to know every tiny detail about everyone else just to make sure nobody gets away with any proscribed individualism.

Dad sneaks off after his brother's girl in his Volvo station wagon and they meet at a bowling alley where they have the place all to themselves. The manager even dims the lights just for them because they are making such a commotion that it would be really embarrassing if anyone else saw them do it. You'd think the management might object to their throwing bowling balls all over the place, but no, they're having too much fun and this must be a special bowling alley that's in business just for them. Wait! You guessed it. In comes the family and bro is royally irked that Dad stole his girl. We already know he's really emotional by the way he belted out that Bee Gees song, so he punches Dad right in the nose. That was all I could take. Out of the DVD player came this disgusting, schmarmy piece of tripe and it's going' right back to the library to serve as an emetic for someone else. Anyone who thinks this horrible movie is good ought to be taken out to the nearest field and executed.