Zombie Sharks, A Crummy Mummy And Marky “Mark” Wahlberg: AVAST! BradRant Ahoy!!

Summer Madness?

Armed With His Trusty Trident Of Poseidon, Brad Takes Out The Trash So You Don’t Have To!

Henry Turner: “I saw her ankles.”

Captain Jack Sparrow: “You would’ve seen a lot more if you kept your cakehole shut.” 

Aharrr, me ‘earties! 

Well, buckle me swash! ‘Ere we go again! Only, let’s go anywhere but the cinema.

What’s with all these crap movies?! Suddenly, movie website Rotten Tomatoes is riddled with too many teens and twentysomethings. Before you can say: “A one-legged man with 18-pound balls? No wonder he walks funny!” Brad has waded in to investigate why there is more bilge on the big screen than ever before… 

Back in the day, you could rent out videos of the most dire, cheesy B-flicks AND still be merrily entertained.

Now, “standards” have definitely floundered: more obscene amounts of cash stuffed in, while artistic integrity no longer holds great value… 

Pirates of the Caribbean: Salazar’s Revenge comes away as the “Best” Of The Worst (29%!). This barnacle-ridden franchise (originally based on a theme park ride, don’t forget!) has well and truly run aground. Even its most fanatical supporters would have to admit that Johnny Depp’s slurred-and-sloshed routine should have walked the plank long before now, and those zombie sharks are a sure sign that all the good ideas sunk without trace ages ago. Arrr…? Ol’ Stragglybeard here is NOT parting with any o’ his pieces o’ eight for this! 

You realise how useless a flop is when it is unable to provide Bradscribe with sufficient quotes! Jeez – really struggled to find suitable lines from any of the wretched assortment collected here, ultimately resorting to a few nuggets from this Pirates sequel, and – shiver me frickin’ timbers (ahem) “other comedy classics.”

At some point in this Post, we will have to deal with the Worst of the Worst. 

So, on that note, here, theoretically, is where a still from the latest noisy, changeable-‘bots crudfest: Transformers: The Last Shite should go:

Jack Kipper: “We just had a leak in the hold.” 

Scurvy Joe: “Did you? Well next time do it over the side, arrr!”

King Arthur: “The Lady of the Lake, her arm clad in the purest shimmering samite held aloft Excalibur from the bosom of the water, signifying by divine providence that I, Arthur, was to be your King.” 

Dennis: “Listen, strange women lyin’ in ponds distributin’ swords is no basis for a system o’ government… You can’t expect to wield supreme executive power just ‘cos some watery tart threw a sword at you.” 

You see?! 

The Transformers franchise – based on a range of toys fer cakes’ sake! – is so dire, it’s utterly pointless bothering to illustrate it with stills. No, we (patience permitting) shall leave the least till last!

Instead, with a keen fondness for all-things-Arthurian, a blockbuster based on this quintessentially-English literary tradition should have piqued my interest, but one has grown accustomed to the deflatingly inadequate (and disrespectful) fare that Hollywood can manufacture… 

In King Arfur: Leg End Of The Bored, Blimey Charlie Humdrum – ho hum, wouldya Adam-an’-Eve it? Another Brad-clone! – steps into Guy Ritchie’s right ol’ Cockney knees-up retelling of the Arfur gubbins with ‘is Roight Noble Geezers o’ the Rahnd Table. Cor blimey, guv’nor!

On paper, this should have been as sound as a pound – perhaps using a Cool Britannia soundtrack (including The Who, The Stranglers, Adam & The Ants, The Damned, Ian Dury And The Blockheads, Eddie & The Hot Rods et al)?; employing a certain ridiculously good-looking blogger 😉 to write some witty banter, eh? eh?!   

Nah… 

Arfur turned out to be as substandard and disagreeable (28%!) as those dodgy donuts me stomach wuz subjected to at the end of the pier last Friday noight. For this shoddy shambles swiftly degeneratesinconceivably, inexplicably – into an insipid medieval pile-up of CG-battle scenes, CG-monsters, CG-pachyderms and- stone the bloody crows! CG-pachyderms?! ‘E’s orf ‘is nut! Do me a favAH! etc. etc.

Should’ve deployed the zombie sharks, mate…

What a loada cobblers…

Baz Hogan: “Storm’s dying down.”

Nova Clarke: “How can you tell?”

Baz Hogan: “Not as many sharks flying around.”

“Does Mummy ever ask about me?” – Captain Jack Sparrow.

Next, we trundle out The Mummy (Flamin’ Nora! She’s in a right old state, arf arf!)

But really…

It’s a shockingly turgid (15%) harbinger of Universal’s new Monster Franchise. It’s quite simple really: if the laughably-termed: “makers” couldn’t be bothered to assemble such rudimentary elements as plot, script or characterisation, one could not be arsed to collect any relevant images. As Confucius used to say: “If you’re uncertain, Steve Martin…”

Count the number of people who remarked: ooh, but it’s got Thomas “Fop Gun” Wannahobbler IV in it – how baaad could it possibly be?!

Worse than you can possibly imagine, apparently. 

From what your correspondent has been able to ascertain from assorted reviews, it looks like a monster movie, but doesn’t try to be scary; it’s too mechanical to be an action movie; too clunky to fit in that diminutive plane-magnet’s film-file; and too abysmal to sit through. Still, at least this leading nerk is less irritating than Marky “Mark” Wahlberg… 

Which brings us neatly – if reluctantly – to the latest Transformers scrap-metal pile. 

Ordinarily, this cannot, by any analytical process, be called a “movie”; it should, therefore, only be treated as a 200-minute trailer, with its constant, mind-numbing inconsequential moving parts and volume cranked up to eleventystoopid. By now, you get the queasy impression that Auteur Of Awfulness: Michael Bay is revelling in the prospect of far too many dense juves ready to throw away good money down this bad dunny – this “movie” epitomises everything that is deplorable with the modern movie “industry”

“Completely insane” seems to be the “kindest” remark made about this trash. There is. Ab. Sol. Ute. Ly. NO! Reason for me to waste Review time or space on it. And yet…

Leading thesp: Sir Odin Hopkins appears in this…! Obviously, he required a new loft conversion. And by Jiminy, boyo, he was bally well going to get it, eh what?! Is there any other plausible way to explain this ridiculous case of (mis)casting?! 

Unfortunately, for me, there is no abomination more unsettling in movies these days than that Marky “Mark” WahlbergOtherwise decent movies have deteriorated once he became involved with them; only someone like him could have replaced Shit Lebeef on this fetid franchise. Usually as cool and laidback as the next dude me, but put this tosspot in the same room as Brad and – by Jove! – THE CAKES WILL HURL…

Woebetide the younglings who actually believe that Transformers is bonafide science fiction!

Arrr, set the zombie sharks on ’em, says Oi…! 

China is set – very soon – to become the largest cinema market in the world. As long as a western movie does NOT feature ghosts, homosexuals or Tibet, it can get a widespread release there. Primarily, Chinese audiences crave – above all else – BIG mindless spectacle, so unanimously-derided trash like The Mummy and Transformers will always be welcomed with open wallets… So why STOP making them?  

Dear Friends, there is nothng more wretched than the truth…

To conclude then, this fistful of flops proves that a fate worse than Depp is unbelievably, unnecessarily possible – not to mention economically viable. And it’s never going to end…

However, you do realise that Brad – bedecked in his “crawled through a river of shit and came out clean on the other side” T-shirt – will keep venturing forth to look for those elusive so-bad-they’re-good flicks… 

Who knows WHAT he will get up to?

“I don’t care what he gets up to, as long as he doesn’t do it in the street and frighten the camels!”

Oh dear…

 

“Pardon My French!”: It’s Tremors!!

Nothing Like Taking Regular Trips Back To Perfection!

Earl Bassett: “I ask ya: is this a job for an intelligent man?” 

Valentine McKee: “Well, show me one and I’ll ask him.”

“I can’t believe we said no to free beer!” 

Brad can’t believe that it’s 27 years to the day since Tremors – one of the most enjoyable monster movies of recent times – appeared in cinemas. So, how about a retro-review? 

This is a prime example of a movie that sunk without trace at the box office, yet became a smash hit on the video rental circuit and is now regarded as a cult classic – still holding up with a respectable 85% on Rotten Tomatoes!

It’s not important that the origins of the (prehistoric?) crypto-beasties here – giant worm-like creatures nicknamed: “graboids” – are never explained, this captivating tribute to 1950s low-budget desert-based sci-fi-thrillers such as Them! and It Came From Outer Space boasts a stellar, better-than-expected script that works wonders in developing such entertaining central characters – who must be (two bums-with-hearts-of-gold) Val and Earl.

“We deny everything!”

Fred Ward is Earl Bassett, while Valentine McKee is played by Kevin Bacon – oh yes! Kevin Bacon!

No one handles garbage better than they do!

And they always determine which one is going to do something by playing rock-paper-scissors… 

A clever mix of action and humour, and along with its catchy old-timey harmonica score, Tremors alwaysno matter how many times you watch it! – offers a real feelgood movie experience. 

“We decided to leave town just one damn day too late!”

“Broke into the wrong goddamn rec room, didn’t ya, you bastard?!” – Burt Gummer. 

The “City” of Perfection is, literally, stuck in the middle of nowhere, consisting of three buildings and the odd shack or “mobile” home; population: 14. With the phones out and exit-road blocked, naturally, the sense of isolation accentuates the fear factor. The unprecedented action that ensues centres around Walter Chang’s Market. 

Interstingly, the monsyers – or “motherhumpers” as they are referred to – take their time before they get to hog the cameras. Gradually, in good ol’ monster-movie tradition, the tension builds; something sizeable and sinister lurks under the ground… Somehow, seismographs become scary(!) the boys are shocked to discover a nasty snake-like thing attached to the back of their truck.

“Goddayamn! What the HELL are those things?!”

Then the “snakes” attack their horses…

When the creatures are revealed to their full extent, for the rest of the movie the fx team utilize an impressive array of animatronics, puppets and miniatures. 

The appearance of Rhonda LeBeck (Finn Carter) the “new seismology student” moves proceedings in a charming direction, especially for Val who’s been expecting his Dream Girl to just turn up there out of the blue! Of course, on the very day they decide to drive out of Perfection for good, Val and Earl start to uncover all kinds of crazy shit: that damned ol’ boozehound Edgar stuck high up on a pylon; slaughtered sheep; and a whole station wagon – with both its headlights and radio left on! – buried boot-first in the sand…

Makes a drastic change from their usual humdrum baloney-an’-beans lifestyle! 

They even get a chance to do a spot of pole-vaulting with Rhonda! Groovy… 

Among the unlucky fourteen, there happens to be doomsday prepper couple: Burt Gummer (Michael Gross) and his wife: Heather (Reba McEntire) with their own extensive range of rifles, sub-machine guns and flare pistols(!), ready to blast away at whatever bursts out of the ground…

“Yeah, but where do they come from?!”

Quite clearly, the cast had fun making this; fortunately – in one of those rare cases – the enjoyment is easily passed on to the viewer. 

“You didn’t get penetration even with the elephant gun?” – Heather Gummer. 

Tremors also holds a rather more personal distinction:

Honestly, yours truly does NOT NEED his own copy, for he can – and has, on numerous occasions – watched this movie in Bangkok, Singapore, Kuala Lumpur, Hong Kong, Ely (the Cambridgeshire cathedral city famous for its eels – how cool is that?!)… as well as Palembang. 

Whatever mood/situation you find yourself in, whatever country you find yourself in, nothing can put your mind at ease quite like Tremors – one of the most universally-broadcasted Universal Pictures ever!

Almost ten years ago, having flown into Palembang, a city on Sumatra – Indonesia’s largest island – to present my research paper into that region’s “lost” pre-Islamic civilization at an Archaeological Conference, everything seemed quite daunting. As you can imagine: a lone, golden-haired stranger landing in the most remote – and rain-lashed – part of the Third Rock From The Sun; hoped the (non-English-speaking) cab driver knew the location of the (right) hotel; had received no confirmation that the moderators had received my power-point presentation as requested; and, ugh, too many more concerns to divulge here! 

However, that first evening – while the monsoon raged on into the night – all my worries dissolved as soon as a delicious dish of nasi lemak was delivered straight up to my plush, air-conditioned room from the in-house “ristorant,” and – oh yes! you guessed it! – it was really comforting to find Val and Earl saving Perfection once again (on Channel 38).

HUZZAH!

Valentine McKee: “Hey, check this out! I found the ass end…!”

Earl Bassett: Man! That’s one big mother...”