It’s a crazy, mixed up world and we are thankful for movies, excluding The Tooth Fairy starring The Rock, that offer proof. /Film’s Weekend Weirdness examines such flicks, whether in the form of a new trailer for a provocative indie, a mini review, or an interview.
It’s rare when the marketing campaign for an indie movie has a celebratory feel, clearly organized by a team as psyched on the feature as they hope the recipient will be. Soon after learning of Black Dynamite last year, several packages arrived at my home/office in correlation with its theatrical release. They contained quality tees—one read “Fight Smack In The Orphanage” in bold-ass white-on-black CAPS—along with a high concept soundtrack and a media kit ribboned and accented with a syringe pen. For months thereafter, director and co-writer Scott Sanders seemed to personally and tirelessly push Dynamite to every white sucka on Internet Geek Street. It was admirable, considering that his second feature film was indeed a pretty fun, meticulously designed hat tip to the Afro-Fu era of Dolemite.
The film is also a stable showcase for Sanders’s pal Michael Jai White (Spawn, The Dark Knight) to launch a renewed case for chiseled action stardom, and a welcome invite for underseen talents like Tommy Davidson and Arsenio Hall to get retarded. Oh, and if you ever wondered about the true origin of chicken and waffles? That’s in there too. During an absurd week that saw oversensitive Twitterers erupt over the existence of soul food, what better film and DVD to welcome Black History Month? Slashfilm’s Weekend Weirdness asked Sanders a few questions about Dynamite’s future as a CIA agent-cum-VietNam veteran-cum-inner city exterminator of “jive ass” dummies. (Note: NSFW movie stills after the jump.)
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There’s been even more gossip about a projected third Kill Bill film from Quentin Tarantino than about his long-delayed Whole Bloody Affair recut of the first two parts. The latest loose-lipped culprit to go sowing wild rumours is Daryl Hannah.
Hannah was speaking to UK TV channel Film 24 about her role in Raoul Ruiz’ A Closed Book when they got her on the topic of Tarantino’s Bride movies. In the first two films she played Elle Driver, the eye-patched Deadly Viper Assassin that we last saw losing her one good peeper. It was safe to assume she’d been offed, though apparently that’s not Daryl’s take. She told the channel:
He always meant it as a trilogy… Think about it. There’s always been a tradition of blind Samurais and you never actually saw her expire in the other film.
Does this mean we’re any closer to a Kill Bill threeque or spin-offl? Probably not, but I wouldn’t be surprised to find out her comments on the blind samurai role were actually founded in something Tarantino has told her.
It’s a crazy, mixed up world and we are thankful for movies, sans The Tooth Fairy, that offer proof. /Film’s Weekend Weirdness examines such flicks, whether in the form of a new trailer for a provocative indie, a mini review, or an interview. In this installment: the perverse and obscure ’60s thriller, Who Killed Teddy Bear?, being shown tonight at NYC’s Anthology Film Archives; the doc, Nick Nolte: No Exit, which finds good ol’ Nick candidly Q&Aing himself on topics ranging from god to drugs. For a special Weekend Weirdness posted yesterday about the imaginative skateboarder fantasy Machotaildrop, click here.
Photographed above is a real deal, shrink-wrapped, limited-edition VHS for The House of the Devil, promoting its release on DVD/Blu-Ray early next month. It’s one of the coolest pieces of swag I’ve received for this column thus far; to my knowledge only a few peeps were sent one, including Devil-supporter Drew McWeeny at HitFix. And even fewer peers have watched the tape. Some are scared, others are sans VCR. I’ve seen last year’s best horror flick at least thirteen times now, so I’d rather keep it sealed. Similar to the wizard-bong approved THotD poster design by Kellerhouse last year, the VHS packaging has faux rental scruffs, in addition to a retro “new release” starburst. A disclaimer on the back reads, “Caution: This film contains Satanic references and graphic violence.” Haters would add: “…and so much pointless walking.”
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While there’s still not an official online release of the Piranha 3D trailer, the latest version to pop up across the web at least takes us past the shaky-cam bootleg that was doing the rounds last week. You can see the new, stable version embedded after the break.
The original Piranha was hardly the most subtle comedy ever mounted for the big screen but it certainly raised plenty of laughs. This new iteration seems pretty much in step with the same objective, if not exactly the same tone. Alexandre Aja has not gone for flat-out gore comedy before, and I’m curious to see how well he handles it.
One reason we may not have seen the trailer officially online yet is that it still calls the film Piranha 3D, despite a rumoured possibility that the film may only be released in 2D; a contrary reason might be that Dimension are planning to keep the marketing in 3D for the time being.
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The RZA‘s career in the movies reportedly started with a call from Harvey Weinstein. Here’s how he tells it, in an impersonation of the big man. The phone went, he picked it up, there was a raspy voice and it said:
Hey RZA, it’s Harvey. I want you to be in my movie. You got a new career now.
Such a smooth talker, the big man.
That movie was Derailed, Mikael Halfstrom’s thriller with Jennifer Aniston and Clive Owen. Since then, a series of supporting roles and scoring gigs have seen RZA keep his side careers spinning nicely but all of his notable achievements were still on wax, courtesy of the music made through his membership of the Wu Tang Clan. However, that may be about to change with his next step up the cinematic ladder and the advent of his debut as a writer-director. Fingers crossed that The Man With the Iron Fist is a movie as good as his hip hop.
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It’s a crazy, mixed up world and we are thankful for movies, sans The Tooth Fairy, that offer proof. Weekend Weirdness cocks its disoriented head to examine such flicks, whether it’s a new trailer for a provocative indie or an interview. In this installment: An exclusive trailer for TV Carnage‘s Let’s Work it Out and a chat with its ski-masked creator, Pinky; an equally cool chat about movies and Hollywood with The Arab Parrot, one of our favorite people and photographers out there capturing bleary eyed L.A. and N.Y.C. culture.
In college, it was unwritten law that a house party wasn’t worthy of House Party unless you woke up and stumbled past a TV turned upside down in a puddle of fluids as it resiliently played a TV Carnage DVD. Such DVDs were the new late night color test for stupid-smart wasteoids, an aughts cult sensation that arrived in the shape of legit packaging and artwork with names like Casual Fridays and A Sore For Sighted Eyes. All anyone knew, or cared to know, was that the DVDs were the obsessive, homemade works of a guy named Pinky; a person who didn’t seem to grasp “copyright” while composing and editing hundreds, if not thousands, of hours of bad TV/VHS into hilarious masterworks of sublimation.
As TV Carnage’s popularity grew, the signature ski mask of Pinky was lifted. An online search today will inform that Pinky is Derrick Beckles, the filmmaker and actor whom /Film readers might recognize from Truth Campaign commercials. One of the founders, alongside Gavin McInnes, of the irreverent Brooklyn site, Street Boners and TV Carnage, Beckles recently directed a music video for the song, “No You Don’t” by the band Islands. It just so happens to star TV Carnage mega-hearter Michael Cera. With his latest DVD, Let’s Work It Out, due mid-January, TV Carnage is going full-cardio. Imagine the neon sweat from ’80s work-out videos by celebs ranging from John Travolta to O.J. Murderer blasted into a hall of mirrors, sucked into a syringe, and then stabbed into your brain’s abdomen. Beckles chatted with /Film and exclusively gave us the first trailer. It’s all splattered below for your weekend enjoyment.
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It’s a crazy, mixed up world and we are thankful for movies, sans New Moon, that offer proof. Weekend Weirdness cocks its disoriented, nappy head to examine such flicks, whether it’s a new trailer for a provocative indie, a review, or news of an excavated cult classic. The works discussed herein tend to make cinema a little more interesting, and in the best and worst cases do the same for life. In this installment: Final Flesh is a real life Videodrome with porn actors from the co-creator of Wonder Showzen; Dirty is the forthcoming, surprisingly solid doc on the late Wu-Tang Clan rapper Ol’ Dirty Bastard; [adult swim]‘s Aqua Teen Hunger Force plops out a spicy Meatwad of a Xmas album, and more, G. The “G” is courtesy Nic Cage’s bad lieutenant.
Nearly a decade after he worked as a writer for Late Night with Conan O’Brien, the career of Vernon Chatman continues its fascinating flush-parade down and around comedy’s perverse bowels. With a new film, Final Flesh, he subverts the acting prowess of real life porno D-listers to match the success of his respected twists on tween teevee (MTV’s Wonder Showzen) and low-rent, fantasy animation (Xavier: Renegade Angel). The irony is that even though the DVD for Final Flesh arrived at my door with a tie-in golden condom packet filled with antibacterial lotion, Chatman ostensibly kept his hands clean of the filth. Flesh is what resulted after he commissioned four online companies that produce adult movies from scripts submitted by paying customers. Instead of sending the companies various scenarios too obscene for Roller Girl, Chatman’s screenplays mostly ditch sex in favor of a murky end days subplot complete with an Atomic Bomb.
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It’s a crazy, mixed up world and we are thankful for movies, sans New Moon, that offer proof. Weekend Weirdness cocks its disoriented, nappy head to examine such flicks, whether in the form of a new trailer for a provocative indie, a review, or news of an excavated cult classic. The works discussed herein tend to make cinema a little more interesting, and in the best and worst cases do the same for life. In this installment: a doc on Norwegian black metal; a doc on the first Asian member of the Black Panthers; a forgotten Dennis Hopper outlaw flick from Down Under; and a dumb-catchy rap song from the Sudan about movies, birds and popcorn.
With the possible exception of Forever21-styled country music a la Taylor Swift, no other music genre is as stigmatized and sensationalized by acts of church burning and murda as Norwegian black metal. The documentary, Until the Light Takes Us, is a dedicated and almost clinical look at how Norway’s black metal scene was permanently transformed—and magnified—in the early ’90s by what are now infamous acts of violence and rebellion.
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