Tag Archives: Film

Movie Night: Stop or my Mom Will Shoot

Year: 1992

Director: Roger Spottiswoode

Production Company: Northern Lights Entertainment

Leads: Sylvester Stallone, Estelle Getty

stop-or-my-mom-will-shootThis was a strange movie, and I have a feeling it was an attempt to capitalize on Arnold Schwarzenegger‘s foray into family comedies (e.g. Twins). Sylvester Stallone should not do family comedy.

Sylvester is a New York cop in L.A. with everything going for him…until one day his mother decides to visit. Sly obviously has mother issues, because he spends the first twenty minutes of the movie trying to call her – to tell her not to come.

It turns out he can’t stop her. How could he? She’s a New York jew (yes, that’s right; Sylvester Stallone, the Italian Stallion, is playing a jew). She arrives, and of course all sorts of chaos ensues. Never mind that she tries to stick her nose into his love life (with his superior on the force, no less), she also vacuums at three in the morning, makes breakfast for twenty, and washes his gun.

It turns out this is an important plot point, because she tries to make it up to him by buying semi-automatic weapons for him from a truck in a back alley. Unsurprisingly, she ends up witnessing a drive-by shooting, and becomes pivotal in tracking down arms smugglers. She, of course, won’t say anything until her son is put back on the case.

Eventually Sly and his mother begin to reconcile, and when the bad guys capture her, it’s time for him to burst in, guns a-blazing. Sort of. The showdown of the movie involves Sly on the ground incapacitated, and his mother blowing away the bad guy with a gun larger than her head. Oh, and he finally makes it with the captain, and they get married. Or something.

The absolute honest truth is that this movie didn’t have a lot going for it. It’s a shame; Sylvester Stallone is an under-rated actor, and Estelle Getty was reasonably humorous. The problem is that the screenwriters didn’t have the guts to push beyond the comfort zone of stereotypes, clichés and tired one-liners. There weren’t any really bad moments in the movie…there just weren’t any really good ones, either. The cast is entirely predictable; the sexy love interest, the overbearing mother, the over-manly protagonist who can’t express his true feelings, the peer who’s got it out for the good guy, the bad guy bent on smuggling those weapons and getting away with it too, if it weren’t for that pesky mother.

I can’t say it felt like a waste of a movie night, but there just wasn’t anything special about it. Oh well. Better luck next time, Sly.

★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

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Movie Night: Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein

Year: 1948

Director: Charles Barton

Production Company: Universal International Pictures

Leads: Bud Abbott, Lou Costello

Well that’s gonna cost you overtime ’cause I’m a union man, and I work only sixteen hours a day.

A union man only works eight hours a day!

I belong to two unions.

51F4U16LZjL._SX500_Oh my, this was too long in coming. After too many Jackie Chan and superhero movies, it was time to introduce Little Satis to the birth of comedy.

His first impression of course was, “Ew…black and white?”

I tried to explain to him that yes, they did have color back then, but they just didn’t use it very much. I also tried to explain to him that just because it was in black and white didn’t mean it wasn’t any good.

It turned out I didn’t need to do much explaining. Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein is a showcase of the duo at their very best, in an absolute farce of a movie with more holes than plot, and whizz-bang cracks every two seconds. What’s so amazing to me in watching these movies is the feel of spontaneity and dynamism that exists throughout; you almost feel as if you’re watching a stage comedy performance. Yet at the same time, every joke and pun fits perfectly into the plot (which is, of course, a joke of its own), and never feels over-rehearsed or generic.

In a nutshell, Dracula travels to the United States with the Frankenstein monster, hoping to find a new brain to revive him and make him his servant. The Wolfman is hot in pursuit, but of course can’t go around at night, because of the full moon (which apparently rises every night). Dracula sets himself on Lou Costello’s brain, of course, it having “no will of its own, no fiendish intellect to oppose his Master.”

Through a series of frankly bizarre and calamitous events Abbott and Costello manage to defeat Dracula, blow up the Frankenstein monster, toss the evil assistant out of a window, and save the girl, who is inexplicably attracted to Costello.

I don’t get it. Out of all the guys around here that classy dish has to pick out a guy like you.

What’s wrong with that?

Go look at yourself in the mirror sometime.

Why should I hurt my own feelings?

However, above the comedic gold, perhaps the true gem of this movie is the chance to see Bela Lugosi return to his infamous role as Dracula (as well as, to a lesser extent, Lon Chaney Jr. as the Wolfman). He is to me the epitome of Dracula (I’m so sorry, Christopher Lee), and to this day when someone mentions the name Dracula, I hear Lugosi’s lilting and sinister Hungarian accent, and see his cape folded over his face. His stone-faced demeanor is such a contrast to the shenanigans of Abbott and Costello that he brings if anything more of a chill than were it a serious movie. His character observes the two as though they are the world’s greatest fools; there’s a moment early on where the expression on Lugosi’s face is priceless:

Screen Shot 2013-03-14 at 11.29.23 PM

Oh, what a joy this film is; and of course the goal was achieved: opening Little Satis’ eyes to movies that were made before he was born.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Movie Night: Hogfather

Year: 2006

Director: Vadim Jean

Production Company: The Mob Film Company

Leads: David Jason, Marc Warren

527-3Hard as it may be to believe, this was my first ever foray into the world of Terry Pratchett. Certainly I knew of him, and knew that his fantasy works were a rival to Tolkien in their complexity and depth, but somehow, for some reason, I just…never read them. The extent of Discworld, described throughout thirty-nine (39!) novels, frankly defies my imagination. Middle-Earth, Arda, and even my own Erâth (shameless plug, shameless plug (wait a minute; can I plug my own work in my own writing? How does that work?)) pale in comparison to the detail presented herein.

Discworld, it turns out, is in fact a flat world (I honestly did not know this when I presented Erâth as a flat world), resting on the back of four elephants, standing on the shell of a giant tortoise. I am given to wonder, of course, what keeps the tortoise entertained, and what would happen if one of the elephants sneezed, but that is pondering for another time.

Hogfather is a tale of sinister happenings at Hogswatch, which is basically Christmas except that Santa is a hog. On this particular Hogswatch, a group of rather unpleasant characters called the Auditors decide that it’s time to get rid of the Hogfather, and seek out the head of the Assassin’s Guild to commission his assassination. How exactly to assassinate an imaginary person (this got uncomfortable for me watching with Little Satis, who still believes in Father Christmas) is uncertain, but an extremely unsavory character by the name of Teatime (said Te-ah-Tim-eh), who is frankly one of the most disturbing psychopaths I’ve ever come across in fiction, giving even Hannibal Lecter a run for his money, is brought in as the killer of choice. Mr. Teatime manages to capture a tooth fairy, who leads him to the tooth fairy’s castle. Here he collects all the children’s teeth ever, and (I still don’t quite understand how) uses them for force all the children to stop believing in the Hogfather.

At the Hogfather’s absence, Death (yes, Death) takes over his job, understanding the importance of children continuing to believe. The sight of Death delivering presents is delicious, of course. Meanwhile, Death’s granddaughter Susan chases after Mr. Teatime, defeats him, and restores the Hogfather to Discworld at the very last moment.

Marc Warren as Mr. Teatime

Marc Warren as Mr. Teatime

The story (as told by the film) was confusing and disjointed, which is something that can often happen when a complex novel is adapted to the screen (see The Lord of the Rings), but this actually didn’t detract, but rather added, to the sense of darkness and confusion of the story itself. The production, for a TV miniseries, was phenomenal, from the CGI to the sets and costumes to the direction itself. The acting was of course first-rate, given that David Jason, David Warner and Tony Robinson were involved; however, it was the utterly terrifying performance by Marc Warren that really stole the show.

I really ought to have known Marc Warren better, given his high-profile career in British television, but I’m certainly going to keeping an eye out for him in the future. His embodiment of an untainted, childlike insanity is so real that I was frightened merely watching him.  The tone of innocent curiosity Warren puts into his voice clashes so violently with the words and actions of this psychopath has the effect of knotting the stomach on sight – you can’t tell if he’s going to laugh, or laugh and kill you.

I was hoping this would be good, but I was taken aback: it is one of the most astonishing pieces of film work I’ve seen for television, and it will certainly be added to the canon of festive films in our household.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★