Bulletproof (1988)

Full disclosure: I had never seen or heard of Bulletproof (1988) until I stumbled upon a collection of the best/worst movie insults of all time.  This caught my attention:

That's right, Gary Busey, perched in the rafters of a warehouse, called Danny Trejo a "butthorn."  Needless to say, that placed Bulletproof on the top of my to-do list.  But is it really worth it to track down this virtually unknown late-80s action movie, just to hear Gary Busey say "butthorn"?

Yes.  A thousand times, yes!  The glory of Bulletproof is not merely that single line, but 93 minutes of ridiculous action movie silliness that is blissfully unaware of how incredibly, laughably stupid it is.  You might worry that an entire movie's worth of enjoyment cannot come with just one "butthorn" comment.  You're wrong, but just to put your mind at ease, I'll let you in on a secret: it's not just the one comment.

So what is Bulletproof about, aside from butthorns?  It's the story of "Bulletproof" McBain (Gary Busey), a reckless cop who is also a semi-retired secret ops agent because of course he is.  The film opens with him on a stakeout with his older partner (Thalmus Rasulala), who implies that he is too old for this shit.  They're on the lookout for a potential illegal arms deal, and the first hint that the deal is going down comes from a limousine and an ice cream truck that drive into an abandoned warehouse.

Don't try to justify that logic.  You will hurt yourself.

Instead of calling for back-up, McBain decides to sneak into the warehouse and handle things on his own.  And by "sneak," I of course mean "take absolutely no cover in the rafters of the building."  A firefight ensues, one that features a lot of bad guys shooting automatic weapons and not hitting anything.  On the bright side, McBain kills someone every time he fires his revolver.  Over the next few minutes, the following things happen:

• McBain avoids being inured by a rocket launcher that was fired at him from across a room.
• "I think we blew him up!"  "You don't blow up a dude like McBain!"
• A car chase involving an ice cream truck filled with weapons instead of ice cream.
• Multiple 360° spins during the car chase.
• The longest grenade fuse (or whatever determines when grenades explode) ever caught on film.
• McBain's boss arriving at the crime scene, looking around and saying "Well, I guess you had to be there," before secretly complimenting McBain on his work.

Keep in mind that this is just the opening sequence, designed to give the audience subtle hints that McBain is awesomely bad-ass.  After a hard night's work, McBain comes home to rest, but instead finds his attractive quasi-girlfriend/hump buddy waiting for him.

"I'll be Ernie, if you'll be Bert.  Oh, rubber ducky, I'm awfully fond of you...sexually!"

You know what makes this scene great?  Well, yes, the gratuitous nudity.  But it's more than that.  Hump buddy's explanation for why she's there is, essentially, because she's crazy and wants to share that craziness with McBain's penis.  Also, I have to point out a few things in that picture.  How many candles, bubbles and flowers do you think "Bulletproof" McBain keeps in his bathroom?  That's right, none.  So this crazy woman A) made a copy of McBain's house key to get in B) brought in at least a bag's worth of her stuff to feminize his bathroom and C) anticipated waiting a while for him and brought her rubber ducky with.  Oh, and apparently McBain's bathroom has rooms inside it; while Sexy McCrazy is sudsing up, McBain goes to the next room so he can use the sink and mirror to pull out a bullet he caught in the shoulder that night.

Perhaps "Bullet Magnet" would have been a better title

Why am I going into such detail with this plot?  Because this particular plot has absolutely nothing to do with the bulk of the movie.  After an opening like this, I expected a Lethal Weapon knock-off, especially with the old, cranky black partner who loves to remind McBain that his ass is, in fact, black.  That is the beauty of Bulletproof.  Just when you think the movie is going to play it safe and predictable, it decides to make absolutely no sense.  At this point, it becomes an international spy story.  The US government has a super tank, code-named Thunderblast, which is ridiculously powerful.  Like, it's probably worth two, or maybe three tanks.  The government then makes the deliberate choice to allow the Thunderbolt to be captured by terrorists, as part of a larger master plan.  They make sure that McBain's former girlfriend (Darlanne Fluegel) was on the mission, to serve as bait.  So, what's the master plan?  The government wants McBain to recover the stolen tank...that they purposely allowed the terrorists to steal.  So...hmm.  That's a toughie, a point that the script wisely chooses to not address.  What about the terrorists?  Who is McBain fighting?  Cubans.  Nicaraguans.  Arabs.  Russians.  You know, the groups that typically work together and decide to invade America through Mexico, powered by a single tank.  My god, the 80s were hilarious.

I love that the Russian has to wear a fur hat in the Mexican desert so we know where he is from

How is the acting in Bulletproof?   Predictably ridiculous.  Gary Busey leads the way, and I found myself enjoying his over-the-top performance.  It isn't actually good, but it was fun to watch.  Some actors would look terrible in a role that required them to spout horrendous dialogue and be a complete asshole to any character they don't kill first.  Not Busey.  He was as believable in this role as anybody could be.

And yes, the urge you feel to punch his teeth in is perfectly normal

The rest of the cast is far less interesting and entertaining.  Honestly, I don't know why they bothered with any non-Busey scenes in this movie.  Of the good guy supporting cast, L.Q. Jones and Darlanne Fluegel were probably the most noteworthy, although that isn't saying much.  The cast of villains had a few unexpected surprises, though.  William Smith, who was born to play direct-to-video villains in the 80s, plays the evil Russian (oddly, he is credited as "Bill Smith"), and makes sure that there is no question about his character's poorly accented nationality.  Even better than Smith's Yakov Smirnoff impression was Henry Silva.  Silva frequently acted in bad movies and, for some reason, he was often chosen to portray some other ethnicity.  In Bulletproof (1988), he plays an Arabic terrorist with (I guess) Communist leanings and a penchant for rape and murder.  Thank goodness that's not racist at all.

"Nice costume.  The beret really sells the whole 'Arabic terrorist' thing"

One of the funnier things about Bulletproof is the fact that there are two great action movie bad guys in the cast, but they play bit parts.  Danny Trejo and Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa (who was left uncredited for some reason) were both just starting out in Hollywood, and this was the best work they could get. 

Steve Carver's direction is not too bad, from a technical standpoint.  I mean, sure, he edited out the explanation of why the US government wanted McBain to single-handedly attack terrorists on foreign soil.  And yes, he was responsible for some of the most unintentionally funny flashback scenes I have ever seen.  My favorite was the one where McBain's lying in bed, shirtless, cuddling with his saxophone, and then he flashes back to the time when he wooed his girlfriend by playing the sax on the beach --- and the soundtrack to his dream was clearly not what he was playing on the beach.

Boy, I certainly am convinced that Busey can play the saxophone

But I'm getting off the subject.  Steve Carver put as much stupid action as he could fit into Bulletproof.  One of the more obvious examples of that comes from the scene where the bad guys repeatedly fail to follow through on their threat to find out, once and for all, just how bulletproof McBain is.  I don't know why, but these terrorists, who are happy to kill any supporting character without provocation, treat the murder of McBain and his ex-girlfriend like a seven-year-old treats cleaning his room.  They're totally going to do it, just...not right now.  So, here's the setup.  McBain is tired and helpless, tied to a gigantic wooden spool.

Yes, you heard that right.  A spool.

The bad guys are (finally) going to execute him.  How does he escape?  Well, a grenade blows up and sends his spool rolling down the hillside.

That is absolutely Gary Busey.  I recognize that shirt.

The villains, who are numerous and have cars and trucks, can't seem to track the giant spool down, and McBain escapes.  Does that blow your mind?  It blew mine.

What makes Bulletproof more than just a bad movie is the incomprehensible script.  This story was written by the team that brought us Hollywood Chainsaw Hookers, but doesn't make quite as much sense.  This movie doesn't feel like something written by completely sane adults.  It's more like the fever ramblings of a six-year-old, doped up on Nyquil.  What else can explain the fact that Gary Busey is more deadly with a revolver than with a tank (that, for some reason, has cubicle chairs and a coffee maker)?

And why would anybody go to the trouble of giving McBain such ridiculous obstacles and then waste precious time showing McBain trying to figure out the tank's control system?  Reality left this movie before the first butthorn sounded, so this late development was bewildering.  Do you want some more examples of the writing excellence on display in Bulletproof?  Of course you do.

• The password to let McBain know who to team up with in Mexico, on his quest to recapture the Thunderblast, is...wait for it..."Thunderblast."
• Actual comeback, part 1: "Yeah...your FACE!"
• Actual comeback, part 2: the Arabic terrorist is told to go "fuck his camel."
• The Russians recognize McBain by his nickname, "Bulletproof."
• After it's all over, McBain has to drive the tank back to America, though the border patrol.  And they just look confused.

There's a lot more than that, but I don't want to spoil everything.  I would totally buy enough copies of Bulletproof to give to all of my friends, but the only DVD pressing of it is truly awful.  It's in 4:3 aspect ratio and looks like it was recorded directly from a VHS tape.  That wouldn't be a deal-breaker, but the damn thing is still fetching $14-$50 on Amazon.

"What the hell, butthorns?  You know this is worth $5, MAX!"

As a legitimate movie, Bulletproof is not very good, but it is filled with action and is makes sense, if you are incapable of coherent thought.

From the completely unreasonable perspective of Lefty Gold, Bulletproof is so hilariously bad that I watched it twice, back-to-back, before returning the rental.  If you're in the mood for stupid, I cannot recommend this any higher.

Halloween III: Season of the Witch

31 Days of Horror

So.  The infamous Halloween III: Season of the Witch, AKA "The one without Michael Myers."  Yes, I was aware of what H3 was, but I decided to watch it anyway.  Over the years, I've heard a lot of things about this movie, with the most optimistic being, "It's not one of the worst movies ever made.  If you know the story behind it, it won't make you all that mad."  Quite the endorsement.  The story behind Halloween III, just in case you were not in the know, explains why it makes the jaw-dropping-in-retrospect choice to omit the main character of the series from an entire film.  I've read a few different explanations for this, but it boils down to John Carpenter and Debra Hill (co-creators of the franchise) being tired of Michael, and the idea of continuing his story felt like it would be too ridiculous to take seriously, as the future sequels would prove.  But the studio wanted to make more Halloweens, so Carpenter and Hill said that they would be involved in the project, but only if Halloween was transformed into an anthology title, where every film would have a different subject.  It's actually a pretty amazing idea, if they had gotten the talent to back it up.  Can you imagine a successful Halloween anthology franchise, where up-and-coming horror directors could go nuts and get widespread exposure?  Too bad they didn't go that route, eh?

Halloween III: Season of the Witch begins exactly as you think it would: with computerized graphics and a title screen that must have taken literally seconds to produce.

Looks like the entire budget was spent wow-ing the audience with the opening credits

Dr. Dan (Tom Atkins) goes to pick up his kids for the weekend from his nagging ex-wife, and he brought them a present: Halloween masks!  Because children love being told by their parent what they're going to be for Halloween.  It doesn't matter, though; mom had already gotten them the cool masks, proving once again that Dr. Dan is a terrible parent.  Dr. Dan represses the instinct to punch everyone in the house and instead responds to a call from work.  Apparently, Dr. Dan is the only doctor that works in his hospital, because he was brought in on a case of exhaustion.  Some bum passed out while clutching a Halloween mask and muttering something about people out to get him.  Shockingly, the paranoid guy was right.  Somebody was after him, and once they killed him, they committed suicide.

The suicidal man, showcasing the average emotional range of these actors

How could a guy who "looks like a businessman" do such a thing?  After all, people wearing suits are incapable of violence or evil.  Dr. Dan decides to investigate, and sexually harasses/flirts with the assistant coroner until she will help him.  What do we find out from the coroner lady?  The suicidal businessman must have been pretty strong, since he tore his victim's skull apart.  Meanwhile, Dr. Dan spends time drinking and watching the same Halloween commercial over and over again.

I'll be completely honest with you: that is what you take from this movie, more than anything else.  I hate that song SO MUCH right now.  Anyway.  Luckily, Dr. Dan is saved from the torture of spending time with his awful chidren and nagging ex-wife when he runs into the murder victim's daughter, Ellie (Stacey Nelkin).  She also thinks there is something strange about her father's death and is determined to get to the bottom of things.  Together, they leave town and go to Ellie's dad's failing toy store.  There, Ellie finds her dad's appointment book and determines that his troubles began when he went to the Silver Shamrock factory, which makes these stupid Halloween masks that all the kids are wearing.  Meanwhile, Dr. Dan is acting kind of pervy and creepy toward Ellie.

"Do you think your father would mind if I took that 'Free Mustache Rides' shirt?"

When they arrive at the factory, they take advantage of a very convenient case of mistaken identity to get a tour of the factory from the owner, Mr. Cochran (Dan O'Herlihy).  Why would the owner of a company run a brief and detail-free tour?  How can a mask company be tied into a murder plot?  And how do killer robots and witchcraft come into play?  And what does "Season of the Witch" refer to, anyway?  Some of those questions --- but certainly not all --- will be answered (poorly) if you choose to watch Halloween III: Season of the Witch!

Still not convinced?  I don't blame you

What can I say about the acting in Halloween III: Season of the Witch?  Well, Dr. Dan probably says it best in the film's final scene: "STOP IT!!!"

Tom Atkins was pretty horrible in the lead role, taking a role that needed sympathy and heroism and filling it with creepiness and a complete lack of motivation.   Dan O'Herlihy was a little better as the closest thing this movie has to a titular witch, but looking mediocre next to the rest of this cast is no big deal.  Stacey Nelkin was also halfway decent, if you like vacant stares and 80s hair. 

...and/or random lingerie appearances

Her part was pretty horribly written, but there was one scene that I just can't let go of.  So, Ellie and Dr. Dan have finally succumbed to the complete lack of sexual tension between them, and had themselves some sexy time.  In a post-coital embrace, Dr. Dan asks, "Wait.  How old are you?"  Her response is, "Relax.  I'm older than I look."  Just so everyone is clear, our hero had a sudden pang of conscience and worried that he had just committed statutory rape (very hero-like), and her response does absolutely nothing to clear the matter up.  If Nelkin had delivered the line with an eyeroll or a rib-jab, I would have taken that to mean that she is over eighteen.  Saying it in a breathy voice, however, makes her sound like a child prostitute: "As young as you want me to be."  Gross.

The less said about Tommy Lee Wallace's direction and co-writing, the better.  Let's just call it annoying and incompetent, and leave it at that.  Well, I guess that's where we can leave the direction.  The writing is pretty terrible.  I'll have to come back to that.

"Ah, yes, the joy on a child's face when he sees the same damn thing over and over again..."

How gruesome can a movie about Halloween masks and seasons be?  Actually, there are quite a few death scenes in Halloween III: Season of the Witch.  I would argue that there are more kills in this film than in any other Halloween, if you count the killer robots as victims.  Speaking of killer robots, did you know that normal humans can punch right through them?  It's true.  Hell, you can even decapitate them with little effort, provided the robot has the form of an elderly woman.  Halloween III also has some fairly unusual deaths in it.  My favorite, by far, is the laser-to-the-mouth kill.  There are no lasers anywhere else in this film, but poking the wrong thing with a paperclip takes you from bored and frumpy...

Luke Skywalker has had enough of her crap

...to herpes-tacular in a matter of seconds!

Cold sores are disgusting

Halloween III is also one of the few horror movies I have seen where child murder is a large part of the story.  I'm not talking about a Mystic River type of story, I'm talking about a movie where the villain's stated purpose is child murder on a large scale.  What makes the child murder even more unusual is the form it takes.  The masks that are so prominent in the film kill the kids.  They go from having a headache...

...to spontaneously shooting out bugs and snakes out of their skull remnants.

Tommy needs a bath

On the one hand, holy crap that kid just died and his head turned into bugs and worms and shit!  On the other hand, this is a movie that kills children?  That's surprisingly dark, given the Silver Shamrock's 8-bit oompah soundtrack.  Judge for yourself:

Oddly enough, Halloween III: Season of the Witch is not remembered for being oddly gruesome or having a darker tone than most other horror movies.  It is remembered for being spectacularly bad.  Why?  Maybe because this horrible, wretched song is replayed at least fifteen times in the damn film.  Maybe it's the lack of Michael Myers.  Or possibly the shitty acting.  Or maybe because the public reacted poorly to child murder.

Nah.  These punks are asking for it.

I'm going to place the blame squarely on the writing.  Well, the writing, and the Silver Shamrock song.  How bad is the writing?  The entire premise of this film is based on the idea that all children want to wear the same nasty-ass, petroleum-smelling Halloween masks.  Remember that time in elementary school where you decided to dress up as exactly the same thing as your best friend?  No?  That's because it doesn't happen.  The Jack-O-Lantern mask is the last refuge of the poor kid in class that doesn't take baths.  In that video above, most of the kids aren't even dressing in costume for Halloween --- they're just wearing their masks.  I love the fact that some of the pumpkin mask owners have added snazzy flair, like a witch hat or a Revolutionary War-era hat.  Of course, this plot also ignores logic.  I'm not going to bother dismissing the Stonehenge angle, because that was handled in such a matter of fact manner that I nearly wet myself.  I'm not going to touch upon the magic phone number that a civilian can dial to get multiple TV channels to not air a specific commercial.  No, I'm talking about the notion that a company that specializes in cheap seasonal masks would A) have television commercials B) have television commercials on nearly every channel C) update their commercials on a daily basis and D) hire vans with speakers to drive around neighborhoods, telling kids to go watch TV on Halloween.  Any one of those ideas at the core of a horror movie would make the film laughable, but when you combine them into one movie, the stupidity reaches such giant proportions that your brain starts to shut down.

Oh, I get it.  TV rots your brain.

And that's the worst thing about Halloween III: Season of the Witch.  There is simply too much stupidity in this film, so your brain becomes numb in an effort to keep from oozing out of your ears.  If the film was halfway competent, this would be howlingly funny, but it's just too much of a bad thing.

Oh, suck it up.  YOU read the script.  YOU know.

But does Halloween III: Season of the Witch truly deserve its place among the worst movies of all time?  I don't think so.  It's definitely bad, but there are worse movies, and there are movies in this franchise that I've hated more.  I think the notoriety surrounding this film is due entirely to it being the sole Michael Myers-less entry in this franchise.  If it was just called "Season of the Witch," it would be a bad movie, perhaps even a forgotten movie, but it wouldn't be notorious.  There are actually some elements here that I genuinely like.  I really liked the villain's motive, and I liked that he scoffed at needing a reason to do terrible things.  I liked that this movie took on the (fairly) taboo task of killing children in the story, and I was impressed with the implications of the ending.  Yes, it's a pretty amateurish effort and deserves to be mocked by all that see it, but there are some core elements here that could ("could" being the operative word) make for a truly frightening horror movie.  As a legit film, Halloween III receives a fairly generous:

 However, for the truly bold and sarcastic, Halloween III: Season of the Witch has enough pleasure and pain to make Pinhead happy.  I recommend jaded friends, Rifftrax, and/or a large bottle of rum.  Because scotch should be enjoyed.  Lefty Gold score of...

ATM

31 Days of Horror

Do you ever hear about a movie, or see a trailer or something, and just know you will see that movie?  I'm not talking about movies that you're excited to see, I'm talking about ones that you know will be inescapable?  It doesn't matter how good or bad the movie looks, you know that you will eventually watch it.  I feel that way about the Resident Evil and Underworld franchises; I don't like either, but I'm pretty sure I've seen every single one of them, usually because someone else says, "Hey, do you want to watch the new ___?"  This is how I felt about ATM.  The trailer made it look bad.  But I knew I would be watching horror movies all October, and I knew it went straight to video-on-demand (always a good sign), so this was a date made by destiny.  The question is whether destiny likes me or not.

ATM begins with David (Brian Geraghty) and Corey (Josh Peck) being awful at their day trading job.  No worries, though; tonight is the office Christmas party, which means that the night is full of fancy cocktails and expensive whiskey!

Or...maybe it means "just like a frat party, but while wearing suits."  Red cups?  Really?  David recognizes the party is his last chance to hit on Emily (Alice Eve), because it is her last day at the company, so he makes the most of it, in a clumsy and mostly ineffectual fashion.  He does convince her to let him drive her home, since it is below zero outside and she can't seem to catch a cab.  And she lives pretty far away, and it's pretty late, so she'll probably feel obliged to invite him in and, you know, ease his throbbing man-passion.

A guy going out of his way to help her?  That's the most realistic part of ATM

There's just one hitch: Corey is a cheap bastard and a cock blocker, so he insists on David driving him home, too.  Even though he lives in the opposite direction.  And he wants to stop for food.  But he has no cash, so they'll have to stop at an ATM.

"I know, I know.  I'm a bastard.  I've got a reservation for the ninth circle of Hell."

Naturally, since David wants to get his friend home as quickly as possible, he stops at any one of the hundreds of drive-thru ATMs attached to banks the last freestanding ATM in America.  And I'm not talking about an ATM that is on a city street, or one that is in the lobby of a bank, or one that is inside a convenience store --- this one is a booth in the middle of an enormous parking lot.  It's not even close to the road, so how did David know it was there?  That's not important.  What is important is that, to punish Corey for being a complete dick, David parks the car a few hundred feet away from the ATM entrance.  So that whole "let's hurry" thing?  Not as important as it seemed a few moments ago.  Oh, but it turns out that Corey's ATM card isn't working, so David has to get out of the nice, warm car and loan his douchebag friend money so he can maybe get Emily home before she realizes he's incredibly boring.  So he does.  And then Emily joins them, because David turned the car off (Really?) and it got cold.  Once they get the cash, they are about to leave, when...

...they see someone else in the parking lot.  Holy.  Fucking.  Shit.  And he's just...standing there, like a psychopath!  Are they overreacting?  Yes and no.  Right when common sense was about to shame these morons into walking to their car like adults, the dude in the winter coat murders a guy who was taking his dog for a walk (through a parking lot?).  This winter coat guy clearly means business, and by "business," I of course mean "murder."  Thankfully, the ATM enclosure has heat, lighting, bulletproof glass, and a security door.  But can that stop someone who is capable of such horror?

Look into the face of appropriately clothed evil and despair!

There are only three real characters in ATM, so breaking down the acting here will be thankfully brief.  Brian Geraghty was timid and whiny when his character was supposed to be shy and likable.  I don't ordinarily dislike Geraghty, but he took a role that should have at least been sympathetic and instead played the part like a little bitch.  Alice Eve was more likable, but so is the killer.  Eve was decent before the trio stopped at the ATM, and once she was there, her character played the weak link in the group.  Her dialogue indicates that Eve did a decent job with the part, but her character was unrealistic and annoying.  This is the first movie I have seen Josh Peck in, but I will congratulate him for making it out of Nickelodeon-child-actor-hood and not being a ham.  He doesn't have nearly the weaselly charm that his character is supposed to have, but I thought he was a slight improvement over Geraghty's impression of a six-year-old girl with bladder problems.

"Why don't we have winter clothing, like that guy in the parking lot?"

While it is certainly not good, the acting is not the main problem with ATM.  Is it the direction, though, or the writing?  Let's look at the direction first.  This is David Brooks' first attempt at directing a feature film.  With a limited cast of characters, enclosed in a small space while someone tries to kill them, it would make sense for the director to have a firm hand on the tone of this film.  He does not.  There is no suspense in this movie.  There is no tension.  When a character tried to escape the ATM and wound up being clotheslined by some fishing wire in the parking lot, it should have been startling, or it should have elicited a gasp.  I laughed until I couldn't stop coughing, and then I rewound and played it again to make sure I didn't miss anything. 

...and this should look like terror instead of Alice Eve saying "hello" with a Kennedy accent

I blame Brooks for not seeing some of the problems in this script and trying to overcome them.  Three people are willingly staying inside an ATM vestibule because a killer is outside, and yet they constantly lose track of where the killer is?  How is that not a priority?  Wouldn't someone be assigned to lookout duty?  That is a very visual problem with this movie, which makes it a problem for the director.  As for the technical bits, Brooks was uninspired.  Aside from occasionally cutting to the ATM security feed, his style was boring and commonplace.  He did make an odd editing choice during the opening credits to intersperse shots of the crime scene at the end of the film with the introductory scenes at the very beginning of the movie. It basically served the same purpose as having the survivor of a horror movie recount the events in a flashback, but without singling out any particular character as a survivor.  It's not a terrible way to hint at the horror to come, but not give away the plot; of course, that horror movie trope is cheap and completely unnecessary to begin with, but at least he did a halfway decent job with it.  One thing that you will notice about ATM is how boring it is to watch. 

The action scenes suck, too.  Just sitting through a fire?  BO-ring.

That is only partly due to the subject matter.  The rest if dull cinematography.  How many times can you show the same camera shot?  I understand that the story takes place in an enclosed space with a small cast, but you have to mix things up to keep the viewer interested!  Buried takes place exclusively inside a coffin and used more interesting camera angles than ATM.

This shot is 80% of ATM's storyboards

As sub-par as the directing is, it is the writing that sinks ATM.  Chris Sparling (who wrote Buried) received the writing credit for this movie, although I don't see anything to indicate whether he turned in a traditional script or if he handed in a stack of papers covered in crayon scribbles and boogers.  This is easily the worst produced script I have seen in a good long while.  Sucker Punch was better written than this movie, that's how dumb this script is.  How is this script idiotic?  Let's run down the list:

• Three young professionals live in what appears to be the Wisconsin/Illinois area (judging by the killer's maps) in Winter, and yet none of them have a real Winter coat?  Or gloves?  And only the girl has a hat, and it's one of those fluffy ones that are more for looks than warmth?  That's not how it works in the American Midwest.  Nobody looks sexy outdoors in December in Chicago.  Everyone bundles the hell up.  Everyone.  Even those assholes who wear shorts all year long will wear a puffy down jacket when it gets below zero.
• Every other character in the movie is wearing the exact same Winter jacket with a fur trim on the hood.  I live in Illinois, and I don't know a single man with fur trim on his jacket.  I also rarely see people with their hoods up, unless it's sleeting.  Hats, yes.  Hoods, not so much.  A string of men, all indistinguishable from each other because they all own the same damn coat and have their hoods up?  That's about as likely as three people failing to have Winter jackets at the same time.
• All three twentysomethings left their phones in the car (or let their battery die).  All three?  I am just outside the smartphone generation, and I rarely leave my phone in another room, let alone get out of the car without it.  You're telling me that these three all did it at the same time?
• Emily left her purse in the car (which was not her car, and was out in the open) when she got out to go to the ATM.  I'm no expert on women, but I give that a zero percent chance of happening.
• The killer shows up with no weapons.  What the hell?  His original plan was to look menacing, until someone gave him the means to find a weapon?  Hell, he couldn't have done half of the things he did to the ATM vestibule without the tools he conveniently found in the trunk of David's car.
• Who leaves a fire hose out overnight, let alone around Christmas?
• David has a fully-stocked toolbox in his trunk.  He trades securities or something like that.  Why would he keep a few hundred dollars of non-tire-changing tools in his trunk?

There are several more examples, but those are the most mind-numbingly stupid instances of the writing in this movie.  In the other cases, you can blame horror movie logic for their choices, but these are  inexcusable.

"Now I have machine gun tire iron.  Ho ho ho."

It is also worth pointing out that the movie portrays the killer as a mastermind that planned all this.  Before the opening credits, we saw him writing on some schematics, planning his attack.  But here's the thing: while the killer was "clever" enough to SPOILER ALERT: not get caught on camera, his foolproof plan apparently depended on having the stupidest three people alive do exactly the right things to allow this plan to work.  Three people that decide not to overpower one person, even when they have proof that they could?  Check.  Three people with cell phones who all happen to leave their cell phones in the car?  Double check.  Three people who are made more desperate by the fact that they don't know what to wear when it is ridiculously cold out?  Triple check.  A group who parks their car just far enough away to have no chance of reaching it without the villain reaching them?  Quadruple check.

Finally!  Somebody parks their damn car close to the ATM machine.  He's helping!

If you change any of those conditions, all of which are extremely unlikely, this dastardly plan falls apart.  And if you think about any of those conditions, the movie falls apart.  But let's not be completely negative.  When David and Corey were having bro time, talking like normal guys, the dialogue was awkward and not terribly clever.  So there's a silver lining.

As bad as ATM is, I couldn't help laughing at its ineptness.  It takes itself so seriously that the obvious mistakes and plot holes feel utterly ridiculous.  I can't imagine a modern movie with recognizable actors that is stupider than ATM.  More pretentious?  Sure.  More frustrating?  Easily.  Simply worse?  Yes.  But dumber?  The only thing that could be dumber than ATM would be a sequel.  By the way, the ending clearly sets up a sequel.  Since this movie made about forty-two cents against a budget of three million dollars, it probably won't happen, but how sweet would it have been for ATM 2: The ATMining to have had the same villain, with the same MO, against someone who wasn't fatally moronic?

Even better: same coat, but in Florida

The fact that ATM got made is an insult to any unpublished screenplays out there.

That doesn't mean it's not fun to watch, though.  This movie has just enough stupidity to keep me interested in pointing out what the next mistake will be.  It was close, though.  There is a fine line between Lefty Gold and utter trash sometimes, I will admit.  ATM straddles that line for much of the film.  Thankfully, the fate of each character and the reveal of the killer as a "mastermind" was enough to make me belly laugh.  I wouldn't advise watching this sober and/or alone, but in the right state of mind, it's pretty solid Lefty Gold.

Sorority House Massacre

31 Days of Horror

While (figuratively) thumbing through my movie queue, I realized that I have not reviewed any "Massacre" movies.  There's no real rhyme or reason for that; I love the original Texas Chainsaw Massacre and taintpunch-hate the 2003 remake, but there are still a couple dozen other "massacre" movies I could waste a few hours watching.  I opted for Sorority House Massacre, primarily because I was in the mood for something from the 80s, but also because I assumed that a sorority house would make for a high body count and amusingly broad characters.  So how did that work out for me?

In case the trailer didn't clue you in, the opening credits make it pretty plain: Sorority House Massacre is going to be pretty cheap and cheesy.  The credits are just an exterior shot of the sorority house in question, with a moody 80s synthesizer for the soundtrack.  Even better, the entire story is told by the Last Girl, Beth (Angela O'Neill), in a flashback as she recovers in a psychiatric ward.  Beth was pledging a sorority, I guess; I didn't see any sorority sisters taking her under their wing or anything, but the other girls talked about her joining, so...maybe this is the ultra-chill sorority that doesn't make a big deal out of pledge drives.  Also: I thought pledges only joined sororities during pledge week --- this seemed like Beth was the only new girl around.

"Stop picking my life apart!"

*Ahem* Anyway, Beth is pledging, so she goes to the sorority house for the weekend.  Of course, that weekend happens to be the one non-holiday weekend when next to none of the sisters are staying there.  Man!  This premise is like a scab that I can't stop picking, and I haven't even gotten to the good stuff yet!  Okay, let's try that one more time.  Beth is staying at the fairly deserted sorority house for the weekend with three other sorority girls.   During her time in the house, Beth starts to have visions and she has a nightmare during that first night.  What kind of visions/dreams, you ask?

Why are all small girls creepy, even if they're well-behaved in your dreams?

The normal stuff: blood dripping from the ceiling, a mannequin family at the dinner table, marbles spilling on the floor, and images of a mad killer.  Beth's soon-to-be-besties pick up on her moodiness and know exactly what she needs --- a man and a crazy night, sorority style!

Both of which were obviously underwhelming

Meanwhile, ever since Beth walked into the sorority house, Bobby (John C. Russell) has been acting very strangely at the maximum security psychiatric hospital, which doesn't at all look like the upper floor in a typical suburban house.  How strangely?  Well, he's started speaking after many years of being basically comatose.  Oh, and he killed his way out of the hospital, destined for parts unknown.  But we know where he's going, don't we?  After all, this movie needs to earn its title!

First up: the acting.  There isn't any in Sorority House Massacre.  Most of this cast made only a handful of movies, and a few of the main players never acted before or after.  That's the talent level we're working with here, and it definitely shows.  Do you like thoughtful inflection, realistic reactions, and likable characters?  Then you might not want to focus on the actors in this movie.

"I'm, like, probably dying and stuff.  Blarg!  That sounds like a death rattle, right?"

Despite the obviously exploitative subject matter, it turns out that Sorority House Massacre was written and directed by a woman, Carol Frank.  I don't want to be sexist, but I normally assume that a man would make a semi-sleazy horror knockoff like this; I hereby offer my apologies to womankind for thinking that exploitation was not an equal-opportunity film genre.  This was the only movie Frank wrote or directed, and I think I know why.  Take this scene:

This character's line is "You wouldn't happen to have a sweater to go with this, would you?"  And the answer is surprisingly not "What are the fucking odds of that?"  Even worse, another character finds a sweater to go along with it!  Guess what it looked like.  Go on, I dare you.  That's right, tropical puke Hawaiian nightmare a crotch-length pink cardigan, of course! 

It does look good, though, when you compare it to sack-shaped dresses

The script for Sorority House Massacre is hilariously bad.  Aside from gems like the sweater line, when Beth has her nightmare, each one of the girls goes to class the next day (I thought this was a weekend...?) and each of their classes has something that deals, directly or indirectly, with interpreting Beth's dream.  Is that not bad enough for you?  How about this: the slutty girl and her boyfriend, who have only three other girls in the sorority house, go off to be alone for some sexy time...in a teepee they set up in the back yard.  Really?  Is it that hard to get the killer inside to kill those two?  They have to look for privacy in a practically vacant building by going outside?

Perhaps shadow puppets are part of their foreplay?

Frank's direction is not much better.  I think my favorite moments were when the camera is moving around, like it's a point-of-view shot, and then the killer just walks out in front of the camera.  So...it's not a POV shot...the cameraman is just skulking two paces behind the killer, and one to the side?

Okay, fine.  Nobody is going to watch Sorority House Massacre for the acting and directing.  What about the all-important horror quality-gauges, violence and nudity?  Well, the violence isn't too impressive.  The body count is only six or seven, and there weren't any cool gore scenes.  It was mostly "STAB!  Now, stay dead!"  There wasn't a whole lot of nudity, either, but there also weren't very many characters in this movie; given that handicap, I think it's safe to say that at least half of the female cast with speaking lines flashed the camera.  There was also a decent amount of man-ass, too:

It's like shirts and skins playing Capture the Flag.  Only instead of a flag, it's a corpse.

If you keep a careful eye on those scenes, you can occasionally see the top of Mr. Chilly Feet's underwear because the editing in this movie is completely awesome.

If you look at this movie objectively, Sorority House Massacre is an unadulterated mess.  But subjectively, it was a surprisingly good time (with liquor).  I mean, come on!  It's not every day you come across an unapologetic Halloween ripoff that manages to fail in almost every conceivable way.

That doesn't look anything remotely like a William Shatner mask

This doesn't even try to rip off Halloween.  It goes for Halloween II, with a touch of early A Nightmare on Elm Street.  The entire premise is so ludicrous that it could only make it into a bad horror movie --- and it still stands out for its stupidity!  I'm not talking about the whole "massacre in the sorority house" thing, either.  Do I need to put up a SPOILER ALERT?  No, but I will because I'm considerate.  The reason the killer is after Beth is because they share a psychic bond that appears to be triggered by her GPS location; she walks in the house, and he goes nuts.  Why?  Because they're brother and sister, duh.  Oh, and Bobby murdered their entire family when Beth was five.  Oh, and the dirty deed took place in the sorority house.  Because it used to be their non-sorority house.  In other words, Beth forgot that her family was murdered, forgot her brother, and forgot the house she grew up in, and that exact house wound up being rented by her possible-but-not-probable-at-this-point sorority.  And, on top of that, we have the psychic link thing going on.  That is some gloriously unlikely shit right there, my friends.

Not diving-headfirst-though-a-2nd-story-window unlikely, but still...

So, if you want to get picky about it, Sorority House Massacre would get a standard rating of

...and even that might be generous.  However, in terms of Lefty Gold, this is one entertaining movie.  I recommend watching it with an intoxicated friend and try to logically explain everything you see.  That might sound boring, but once you start building on your earlier logic and expanding it, you'll thank me.