REVIEW: BATTLE EARTH

Once upon a time, in February of 1942, aliens came and hovered over Los Angeles. They hung around a bit, didn't too much, and then left. Or so UFO conspiracy theorists like to claim. I can't say for sure what happened because I wasn't there. But this incident, much like the alleged crash landing of another UFO in Roswell, New Mexico, has kept the idea of aliens and alien visitation alive for decades.

In 2005, it inspired a pretty okay movie called Battle: Los Angeles, starring Aaron Eckhart and directed by Jonathan Liebsman. 

Battle Earth writer/director Aaron Kurmey kinda hopes you don't remember that, or else his film about the US (er, sorry, Canadian) military fighting off a ground invasion by alien forces might seem more than a little familiar, as will its news footage declaring "EARTH UNDER ATTACK!!" and the streaming bright-white meteors hurtling toward our planet. Even the handheld "right up in there" way of filming the action is ever in place. But as I've often said, while concepts can become exhausted, a filmmaker with a bit of know-how can overcome this over-saturation so long as they offer something new and/or intelligent. (I also don't blame the filmmakers for the title, as research indicates the film was originally called The Medic.)

It is six months into the initial invasion. The Canadian military is actively trying to quell and neutralize the attack with the use of helicopter and ground troops. Among one of these troops is Greg Baker (Kevin Johnson), who enlists in the fight after seeing the invasion unfold on his television. After their helicopter is shot down, Baker and his platoon find themselves in enemy territory and in possession of a mysterious package covered in bio-hazard symbols. As time goes on, it becomes more and more evident there's something pretty important inside that package...and it's going to change Baker's entire perception of who is the real enemy.

Battle Earth, and movies like it, are perfectly destined for Red Box or digital download. It is a satisfying way to spend 90 minutes without ever feeling like your time has ultimately been wasted. But you'll never feel compelled to watch it ever again. The acting is just fine, though it varies in quality; luckily our lead is more than competent. Johnson isn't your typical generic and handsome lead; he's just an everyman who saw the carnage on his television and did the right thing in volunteering for the fight. He's got some domestic baggage weighing him down, and it causes him to have nightmares in which he stumbles across his wife/girlfriend, Tracy, fucking some random dude in the middle of the same wilderness where the soldiers are engaging the enemy.

Speaking of the enemy...oh boy, these aliens. They don't look great. And I suppose that's why the filmmakers don't really go out of their way to show them off. If you've seen the great District 9, picture if you can those aliens having been dudes in costumes as opposed to CGI. (I'll certainly give them points for trying it old school, however; I'll take crummy costumes over crummy CGI any day of the week.) That's the enemy we're dealing with in Battle Earth...and they also wear clothes. Except for E.T., that might just be a first in this subgenre. Also a first: Canadians saying things like "fuck" and "sucking dicks." I had no idea Canadians cursed! It's weird!

Refreshingly, the visual effects present here are pretty competent and effective, and Kurmey's skill behind the camera works well in tandem alongside them - one notable sequence has a still night invaded by flashing lights across the far mountainous horizon, and the glare of this light show reflects across the soldiers' awed faces. Small moments like this - and the very unusual opening utilizing a recreated relaxation tape meshed with a soldier dispatching enemy combatants - help elevate Battle Earth above the usual direct to video level.

Unfortunately, the film falls victim in the same way other films containing groups of soldiers: characterization falls by the wayside, and instead the men are given differing personalities (the funny guy! the somber guy! the foreigner!) to help the audience discern who is who. Not helping is the single location in which the film takes place, which after a while makes the film a little stagnate. Odd, seeing as how the majority of this film has soldiers shooting assault weapons at the enemy.

You have seen better films than Battle Earth, but you have seen way worse, too. It won't be your new favorite film, but it might make you say, "that was worth the $1.20, but we have to return this by 9:00 or they'll charge us for another night."

Battle Earth hits DVD on May 28. Buy it here.

REVIEW: THE LAST STAND

I am an Arnold Schwarzenegger enthusiast. I've seen literally every film he's ever made, even the early obscure titles like Stay Hungry and The Villain. I sat through the infamous torture that was Batman & Robin. I even went to see The Expendables simply because of the 1-2 minutes he actually appears. (The remaining 88 minutes was nothing more than a bonus at that point.) Lastly, I have probably seen Commando more times than a 70-year-old has celebrated their birthday.

So, is Arnold the "greatest actor in the world" that he, one day long ago, said he'd be?

Of course not.

But he did manage to become the biggest movie star instead, and that's just as good, if not better. When you get top billing in a Batman movie over the guy playing Batman (who happened to be George Clooney), you know you're in a good place.

Through titles like The Terminator and Predator, he not only secured his place in cinema history, but he became synonymous with the action genre. Soon he was able to write his own ticket, and his roles - and paychecks - became bigger and bigger.

Then he did the whole governor thing. For eight years, that was a thing. His future in movies seemed uncertain. Most assumed he would do what most other retired politicians did: write their memoirs (which he did) and then disappear into the background.

Think again.

His fun cameo alongside Bruce Willis in the first installment of the Stallone-spearheaded Expendables didn't scratch the itch of the legions of fans who yearned for his return to the big screen - it served instead only to tease. If you're an action fan, there is no denying that Arnold changed its face and turned it into the cartoonish, over-the-top collection of punchline spewers that still lives on today. And even if you're not an action genre fan, there's no denying that the greatness of films like Predator or the first two Terminators transcended that genre barrier and have become some of the most celebrated films - of any genre - of all time.

The concept of The Expendables was a fucking great one: a collection of our favorite action stars from yesteryear all kicking ass together. Though it worked better as a nostalgia piece than it did as an actual film, it proved one thing: audiences still cared about Stallone, Lundgren, and all the rest. (I'd be really curious to see how many people were driven to see it because of the much ballyhooed Arnold cameo.) If The Expendables was instrumental in proving to Arnold that audiences still desired old school action, then god bless it, because it may very well have led us to The Last Stand.

In the two Expendables films, Arnold's age shows. Boy howdy does it. He has a nice little paunch and some loose skin around his neck. And somehow after living in America for forty years, his accent is no less prevalent. One thing that remains, and will likely always remain, is his charisma. It is palpable. It is a living entity. And in The Last Stand, it remains ever in place.

Schwarzenegger plays aging sheriff Ray Owens, formerly of the Los Angeles narcotics division, before too much death and bloodshed forced him to leave it all behind for a quieter life. His life of solitude is disrupted by the FBI-evading, race-car-driving (seriously) drug kingpin Gabriel Cortez, who is intent on heading for the U.S./Mexico border...which will lead him right through Owens' town of Sommerton, Arizona. 

Needless to say, Arnold has no choice but to stop him.

With The Last Stand, the film wisely acknowledges that Arnold is old. A sheriff in a piss-ant town where nothing much happens is probably allowed to be. While the film never continuously elbows you in the side to make old jokes, the point is made all the same: Owens is older and slower than in his hey day. But he is still a force to be reckoned with.

The Last Stand is being sold as Arnold's return to action starring roles. That is why I and 100% of anyone who saw it went in the first place. This ultimately is the film's blessing and curse. Arnold is certainly the focus of the film, and he certainly kicks ass...but not right away. Though the film touches base with Arnold every so often during the first third of the film, the story focuses much more on the Forest Whitaker/FBI side of things...to the point that you begin to doubt all the marketing you may have seen: Arnold's face on the poster, his overwhelming presence in the trailers.

All I can say is...hang in there. It very much realizes that. It just wants to tease you.

In The Last Stand, we experience the birth of Arnold 2.0. He is aged, yes, and though the film is manic, violent, and very nearly a comic book, it wisely takes time to stop and allow our characters to show genuine emotion when things get tough. Arnold...acts. And you can see that he wants to. You can see he really wants to humanize Owens, as well he should, being that this is the first time Arnold has played your everyman. He's played a commando, a terminator, a special ops bad ass. He's battled clones, Batman, and the devil himself. But he's never played just a normal human being. In The Last Stand, he is, and for someone who idolizes Schwarzenegger's larger-than-life swagger, it's incredibly refreshing. In other words, Ray Owens has progressed the same way that John McClane should have: he's a simple man, aged not just by his years, but by the things he has seen and done, and he is in the wrong place at the wrong time. And when shit is fucked, he's not afraid to express his fears, doubts, and solemn sadness.

Spoilers.

The ending sequence, in which Arnold squares off against the main baddie, is incredibly well done. There is no Commando-esque, guns-thrown-aside nonsense, because neither man has one. There's no exhibition of martial arts or impressive hand-to-hand combat. What we have are two men - one young and one old - beating the ever-loving shit out of each other. It is not in the least bit graceful, and contains not the least bit of technique. Instead, it is brutal, and animalistic, and to sound like a fifth grader, incredibly manly. It's about brute force and dominion, and neither opponent disappoints. (Arnold even removes his jacket before the fight commences, which, while admittedly cliche, is incredibly bad-ass.) It really was the perfect way to end the film, because in order for Owens to prove his honor, he had to suffer. He had to take his licks. And he had to take his prisoner alive. To simply blow the dude's head off would have been counter to what Owens, in his golden years, was trying to establish: that he still served a purpose; that he could take alive the man that even the FBI let slip through their fingers.

Mission accomplished.

End spoilers.

In Jee-woon Kim's first English production (following his acclaimed I Saw the Devil), he wisely chooses to shoot Schwarzenegger in the way he ought to be shot: eye level, with little aplomb. He's not a hero, after all - at least not yet - so Kim saves the close-ups for the steely lines that come when Owens realizes he is the only thing standing between a bloodthirsty criminal and the land of non-extradition. Kim lets several shots go on and on, capturing a massive amount of on-screen action in all directions, and he loves the red stuff, which always helps. One gag in particular involving a flare gun and one very dead bad guy is as ridiculous as it is incredible.

Most importantly, The Last Stand is just a hell of a lot of fun. Fun supporting work from Luis Guzman and even Johnny Knoxville infuse the ride with some easy comic relief. It allows you to be okay with blurting out joy when someone explodes on screen. Is The Last Stand the return-to-form for Arnold that we all wanted to see? It's hard to say. Arnold has managed to work in many different facets of the action genre - the gonzo (Commando), the thrilling (The Terminator), and the fantastic (End of Days) -  so it's hard to really pinpoint to which form he is supposed to be returning.

But I will say this: if we lived in Bizarro World and The End of Summer was a brand that actually carried some weight, the official pull quote would be:

"Arnold's best movie since True Lies."

As I write this, the box office numbers for Saturday are still being compiled. But based on the amount of folks in the audience at my showing (day two of release), I am a little hesitant to see them. I'm scared at the prospect of The Last Stand's opening box office take being incredibly underwhelming. I'm scared of it affecting all of Arnold's potential future projects. He's got two more in the can already, and for those I am equally as excited, but I sincerely hope this next phase of Arnold 2.0 will see great success for him - with audiences and the box office. 

SHITTY FLICKS: UNDEFEATABLE

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis.

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up.

Cynthia Rothrock is Kristi Jones, a street-fighter who spars in alleys in order to make money for her baby sister to go to college. Her hair will change dramatically from scene to scene, haphazardly, and for seemingly no reason.

John Miller is Nick DiMarco, a no-nonsense cop whose loose early-'90s wardrobe is no match for his early '90s non-personality. He often works out using a large bow-staff with a pink ribbon tied around his waist.

By themselves, they are just people.

Together, they are Undefeatable.

Our story begins with Anna, a tearful, flowered-dress housewife confiding to her psychiatrist, Dr. Simmons, about the abusive ways of her husband, Paul (aka Stingray). She tells of his sociopathic tendencies, of the physical abuse, and his cold demeanor. This scene so desperate to drip with drama is intercut with the husband in question, who resembles a thick-faced and insane Jerry Seinfeld (the one from the '80s with the mullet), beating the hell out of a fighter in a ring. Stingray stares into the camera, seething with crazy, dripping with sweat.

Thick blood spews from his adversary’s mouth as he delivers a deathly elbow-drop to his back, all shot in glorious slow motion.

Jerry Seinfeld wasn't paid a million dollars per episode because
of his show's popularity; it's because he was crazier than a
shithouse rat, and NBC executives were terrified.

Dr. Simmons urges Anna to leave him, for her own safety as well as for the sake of the “plot.”

Well…she does. But more on that later!

It’s time to meet Nick DiMarco, the flattest male lead you’ll ever see in a moving picture.

Two punks attempt to knock over a convenience store, brandishing their weapons. During this, a small child hands a can of COCA-COLA over the counter, unaware of the current situation.The COCA-COLA can, which contains COCA-COLA, hovers in our line of vision for several seconds.

One of the thieves pushes the small boy, who slides an impossible distance across the floor, right into the legs of Nick DiMarco.

“Maybe you’re too much of a chicken shit to pick on someone your own size,” Nick says drably, as if speaking to his cat.

Fighting ensues, as one of the thieves brandishes a cartoonishly large blade.

“SUCK MY DICK!” he oddly bellows, swooping in for the kill.

A quick point of Nick’s gun right into the thief’s cock causes him to give up pretty quickly.

Nick’s partner enters, unconcerned, and manages,“C’mon, Nick. We’ve gotta go!”

Nick DiMarco wows yet another patron with his
Human Doll impression.

Meanwhile, Kristi Jones and her entourage of Asians meet a black gang in a back alley, ready to fight. In what appears to be goofy, ridiculous tradition, the Asians begin to clap their hands in unison as the black gang stamp the wall behind them, also in unison.

I guess it’s to make sure the audience knows how hardcore this scene is doing to be.

Well, Kristi wins the fight and goes to collect her money when the cops—you betcha, one of them being Nick!—show up to spoil the fun.

The Asians descend to the local college campus to meet Kristi’s sister, Karen. The Asian gang jokes that their high IQs make it impossible for them to enroll in college (?) before becoming morose and remembering the whole reason they're even there is to tell Karen that her sister has been arrested.

“The cops swept the neighborhood and arrested anyone under 30!” they claim, which is hilarious, seeing as Rothrock is clearly much older than 30.

Back at the station, Nick interrogates Kristi, trying to find out who has been organizing the street fights. Kristi plays it cool and dumb and Nick lets her go, citing, “That kid’s okay.”

Yep…that 37 year-old kid.

Anna, still in her flowered-dress (it’s important to keep noting that), nervously cooks over a steak as her abusive love, Stingray, returns home.

“Hi Anna!” he happily exclaims, moments before savagely and robotically raping her over the kitchen counter. And with each thrust, Stingray’s mind wanders to the fight earlier that day, as his unshelled lobster meat-looking hair flops around on his square head. The rape continues and he dreams of punching black men. He also calls Anna “mommy.” (As the rape ensues, check out the giant box of Kit Kats on top of the fridge. Thanks, corporate sponsors!)

Stingray, having completed both his fuck and his steak, leaves to collect his money from the day’s fight from his “agent” (I guess), Lou.

Rape Face™

Stingray returns home to find a note from Anna saying she has left him. He then flips out and throws stuff for several minutes, all in completely cheesy slow-mo. It even shows an exterior of the house as we hear him continue to break shit and scream, which is a device I thought was reserved only for comedies.

I guess this counts.

As insane as Stingray was before, now it’s safe to assume that he’s totally and completely flipped shit.

“Anna…I’LL FIND YOU” he bellows into the mirror, but then breaks the mood and applies layer after layer of hairspray to his already-stagnate hair as he trades smoldering stares with himself in the mirror.

And find her he does. Or at least he thinks he does.

In a nearby parking garage, an Anna-looking woman in a flowered dress is necking with an Asian prep. Stingray demands "Anna" come home with him, obviously confusing everyone, and it leads to a fight. Unfortunately for the Asian man, but fortunately for all of us, his eyes are plucked out and he’s thrown over the ledge, breaking his fall on an SUV.

Stingray takes "Anna" back to his warehouse, where he proceeds to chain her up and punish her for leaving him, which is just more chains, only this time whipped at her back. She doesn’t much like it.

Her body is later found in a port-o-potty, where Nick and his partner are investigating.

“The sick bastard poked her eyes out!” his partner exclaims. They trade steely glances, decide on a course of action, and they both leave in amusing and distracting symmetrical unison.

Kristi, meanwhile, is back doing what she does best: fighting. Her latest opponent, Bear, tries his best, but just like any investor who put money into this movie and expected a return, he didn’t have a chance. Kristi’s Asian entourage looks suitably pleased.

Bear ends up flat on his back, signaling his defeat. He then leaves with his flowered-dress wife, which catches the attention of Stingray. (Have you noticed a trend yet?)

Bear tries his best, but ends up failing at fighting for a second time, as Stingray crushes the man’s trachea.

Later, Stingray spies a third Anna: Karen, Kristi’s sister, who is by far the weakest actor in the film (and that’s saying something). Karen’s Asian companion attempts to intervene, but is promptly tossed into a pole.

Things don’t end well for Karen.

Meanwhile, Kristi practices swirling and twirling in her backyard with a set of steel weapons that I believe are called “stupid things.” These candy cane-shaped tools couldn’t be less intimidating if they were made of twisted cinnamon bread. Clearly the filmmakers didn’t just make these weapons up, and I am sure they legitimately exist, and in a GOOD movie, I would have accepted their odd construction and moved on, but we’re not in a good movie.

We’re in Undefeatable.

Stingray's habit of spitefully tasting wedding cakes in
front of the bridal party lost him many catering jobs.

Nick drops by with the unfortunate news of Karen’s demise, telling her she must come identify the body, which is very obviously a male's body covered under heavy make-up prosthetics. Rothrock attempts to transition from twirling stupid things, which she is good at, to acting, which she is not. The result is tremendously pleasing.

Kristi notes a series of scratches on her sister’s body, which is a result from a martial arts move called the “Eagle Claw.”

Kristi leaves, thirsting for vengeance, and finds Eagle Lee, a Wang-Chung looking dude in full fire-engine red windbreaker regalia, and master of the “Eagle Claw.” The fight, which for some reason takes place overtop a fleet of barrels, doesn’t last long; Nick shows up, playing the concerned potential-lover role, and breaks it up.

At Karen’s funeral, Kristi stands over her sister's supposed-to-be fresh grave, which clearly has been there for years, the thick, unmowed, undisturbed grass being the dead giveaway.

Thanks to the help of Dr. Simmons, Anna’s shrink, Nick and his partner end up at Stingray’s house, hoping to bring him in. They do not, and that’s good, because this leads to Lou going to Stingray’s warehouse hideaway, where he finds a fish tank full of eyeballs.

“Why would Stingray have a fish tank full of eyeballs?” he honestly asks himself aloud.

After that, he finds a dead girl shoved in a container, and he figures it’s probably time to peace out.

And peace out does - out of Earth, that is, thanks to a bit of strangling via Stingray's rippled arms.

After that, Stingray finds Dr. Simmons at her office. Simmons attempts to fight him off (why does every single person in this movie who isn’t supposed to be playing a fighter still know how to fight?) but it doesn’t really work. Once that fails, a bit of mind-fucking is in order, first pretending to be Anna, and then his mother, a la Friday the 13th: Part 2.

You know your movie is in trouble when you’re stealing from a Jason movie.

Regardless, her “I’m your mommy” thing works primo…a little too well, even.

He grabs her and bends her over a table.

“C’mon, mommy. I wanna play.” He then starts feeling her up.

Ew, Stingray. Gross.

"My son Treat Williams is a chip off the old block,
ain't ya sport?"

He then chains her up and leaves to buy food. Dr. Simmons manages to finagle her ringing phone out of her purse and answer it with her foot. It’s Kristi on the other end, and Dr. Simmons shouts her location.

Kristi swings by and immerses in a breathtaking fight with Stingray, featuring slow motion, flying boxes, swords versus her “stupid things,” and even a scene of slow-mo raining packing peanuts, which I’m sure Quentin Tarantino, the dumb shit lover, awed over more than once.

Nick and his partner show up and ruin the choreographed fighting with a boring shootout, which results in his partner's death and Stingray's escape.

“Breathe, you bastard,” Nick urges emotionally to his partner, but in the way that Nick shows emotion, which is...not.

Nick and Kristi begin to leave the hospital where Dr. Simmons is staying after her encounter with Stingray. Not because of sudden epiphany or suspicious behavior do Nick and Kristi suddenly turn around and head back to the shrink's hospital room, but because of a forgotten pair of sunglasses.

Once there, they see that Stingray has kidnapped Dr. Simmons.

Again.

Dr. Simmons breaks free of Stingray and flees, with Kristi hot on her heels to provide assistance of the female variety.

And then this glorious, fan-fucking-tastic piece of cinema happens:

After the fight, Kristi, Nick, and her Asian men gather at Karen’s gravesite, where Kristi makes her amends and pledges never to fight again. The Asian entourage looks sad at this news, but Kristi drops the bombshell that she has enrolled all of them at the local college. Then Nick drops the bombshell that he has enrolled HER at the local college.

Everyone yells in happiness and the movie ends in a group high-five before they have time to realize that they are all going to have to pay a shitload of money for college classes that they didn’t pick, let alone desire.

Until next time…I’ll be keeping an eye out for ya.

SEE YA.

REVIEW: FIREBALL

 

If this country weren’t so hung-up on a two-party political system, I would campaign as an independent to have Fireball elected president. And then I would find the hottest, hard-bodied intern for Fireball to bring to the Lincoln bedroom and lay upon her some serious presidential coitus. And then when Fireball’s bastard child loomed on the horizon, I would step up and touch that white-coiled wire thing in my ear and then say, “Our position remains firm that the real father of Bastard Child is Jurassic Park.”

Fireball deserves all of that special attention. What a fucking fun, fun movie.

But why the hell was its 2009 video release so quiet? Is it because the actors’ names are longer than Lawrence of Arabia? (Kumpanat Oungsoongnern plays Muk!)

Why aren’t there hordes of people singing its praises? Why did people shit their pants over The Raid (which was fun, but not nearly as fun as you’ve been told), yet not care about poor Fireball?

For the same reason "Jersey Shore" is a thing. For the same reason The Black Eyed Peas are a thing. For the same reason people thought Titanic was just a movie and not based on, you know, history.

Because people are stupid.

I’m stupid, too, don’t get me wrong—but not stupid enough to NOT know how fucking awesome Fireball is.

I’ll get to the plot in a minute, but the plot itself is so inconsequential that it shouldn’t matter; because while Fireball may be about revenge and redemption, what it’s really about is two bad-ass groups of men beating the ever-loving shit out of each other during chain link fence-surrounded basketball games. The name of the game is simple: Make a basket. Whoever scores the first and only basket wins the game. Oh, and survive the punching, kicking, fire, and chains.

That’s it.

That’s all I need.

That’s all you need.

Even Fireball for this film’s title is an absolute misnomer. It should be called Badassketball. In fact, that’s its name for the rest of this fellating review.

Badassketball is about Tai. After his release from jail, he comes back to town to see that his brother, Tan, is comatose in a bed (because of Badassketball). Tan’s lover, Pang, cries a lot, and explains that back during Tan’s conscious days, he would come home covered with bruises and explain it was from playing basketball. “I wasn’t that stupid!” she cried, proving that she was, in actuality, pretty stupid. Tai assumes Tan’s identity (since they’re twins) and he enters the game. And all kinds of macho fucking beatings take place.

Let’s meet the Badassketball team The Good Guys.

The team is “managed” by Den, a low-level crime figure with a heart of reasonable gold. He seems pretty emphatic on remaining involved with crime, but he also wants to be a good guy. It’s enough to make you root for him.

Iq is a young hipster. He plays Badassketball to pay the rent for himself and his family.

Muk is the sole black man in all of Thailand and his wife is preggers. He’s pissed off most of the time and REALLY does not like this next guy:

K has a shady past. Muk frequently accuses him of purposely throwing a past match for financial gain. K loves whores, but won’t kiss them.

Zing sells TVs during his off time, and during his on time, punches large burlap bags filled with grain, and men.

Now let’s meet The Bad Guys.

Tun is the main bad guy, and his screaming blonde hair is the only thing keeping him from essentially being Henry Bowers from Stephen King’s IT. He’s the one who put Tai in a coma, so obviously he becomes Public Enemy # 1.

Yong is an old man mob boss. He’s been whoring Pang out to various people and attempting to fix games of Badassketball for his own personal gain.

The rest of the bad guys kinda blur together, but it doesn’t matter.

So many people are punched and kicked that even Bobby Brown became uncomfortable watching it (too soon?). Blood sprays in the air as men roll across the floor in total fucked pain, holding their stomachs and faces. Luckily these guys get right up at the end of matches as if a reset button had just been hit.

The film overloads on chaos cinema, thrashing the camera and zooming in and out like Michael Bay discovering his first boner. But it’s all in good fun. The violence looks painful, but also entertaining (like violence should be). There’s an especially useless scene where Den (the coach!) spies a far-off basketball court from a high rooftop. He tosses The Good Guys a basketball and tells them the first one to get the ball through the court’s hoop will win some cash money.

The Good Guys then literally beat the shit out of each other in an effort to be the one who sinks that money-awarding shot. They all grin and go about this like they are having a huge amount of fun, even as guys bicycle kick each other in the chest and jump out windows and across rooftops. They might as well literally scream, “We’re friends, but we’d kill each other for money!”

During a match, The Good Guys and The Bad Guys beat the shit out of each other. Things get hairy when lead pipes are slid through the fence. The Bad Guys grab them and advance on The Good Guys, grinning and touching the pipes against The Good Guys' spines. The Good Guys don't use the pipes, even though they could, because they’re the good guys, and homies don’t play that.

I guess they should have, because one lead pipe becomes a lead-pipe-with-pointy-end, and one of The Good Guys does not make it off the court. As much as my praising of the movie may sound sarcastic, it’s not; the death of this one Good Guy was pretty telegraphed, and when I saw it coming, I shouted, “Oh no!”

The Good Guys make it to the finals, and this game takes place at an old military base. This game (though illegal) is quite an event, bringing in a huge crowd of people as well as armed military guards to (I guess) keep things in order, even though murder is absolutely allowed on the court.

The game escalates fairly quickly; especially after The Bad Guys rip the basketball hoop off the backboard and throw it aside, as if to say, “Fuck you, The Good Guys. This game is about murder-blood, not basketball.” Well, (spoilers) Tai strangles Tun with the hoop, cracks his neck with it, and then throws his body aside like a piece of garbage. It gives me broners. The Good Guys are victorious, but at what cost?

Now, as for the (scant) bad things...

The music in this is pretty bad. It would even be bad for video game music. In fact, if this were video game music, someone playing that video game would be like "I thought video game music was supposed to be getting a lot better? This is terrible."

Lastly, the awesomeness of Badassketball is almost derailed by a post-credits sequence in which The Good Guys’ team is reformed, but one of its survivors says, “Forget this hoops stuff,” and insinuates that his life will now revolve around shooting guns instead of shooting basketballs. What a boring sounding sequel.

 

Internet doesn't have much to say about Badassketball, sadly. Its trailer is posted on some blogs for kitschy purposes, but most people don’t seem to care. It currently sits on IMDB with a lame 4.7 rating, which I find a little puzzling, as I can only assume the sole reason these low-raters set out to watch this movie in the first place was because they read or someone told them it was about martial-arts fighters beating the shit out of each other as they played basketball. Apparently this movie, about martial-arts fighters beating the shit out of each other as they played basketball, didn’t quite scratch that itch.

What idiots.

In 2012, vote Fireball!

SHITTY FLICKS: FOR YOUR HEIGHT ONLY

Shitty Flicks is an ongoing column that celebrates the most hilariously incompetent, amusingly pedestrian, and mind-bogglingly stupid movies ever made by people with a bit of money, some prior porn-directing experience, and no clue whatsoever. It is here you will find unrestrained joy in movies meant to terrify and thrill, but instead poke at your funny bone with their weird, mutant camp-girl penis. 

WARNING: I tend to give away major plot points and twist endings in my reviews because, whatever. Shut up.

In 1957, a legend was born; a pint-sized legend that rocked a white suit, triumphed against adversity, and wooed the ladies. His hair was as black as squid ink, his smile glinted like the afternoon sun, and his nipples were the size of silver-dollar pancakes.

He came, he saw, he littled. And in 1992, he died of bad crab.

But in between those two history-changing years, he became an action-star sensation in his native homeland of the Philippines, and his presence in the film community carved a never-fading presence and laid root to his still-celebrated career.

Weng Weng: He's armed, dangerous, and fits into most overhead storage compartments.

1981’s For Your Height Only would be one of two (possibly more) films in which Weng Weng would play a fun-size James Bond-ish super spy known as Agent 00. This role would continue in 1982’s The Impossible Kid (as well as in 1981’s Agent 00, which may or may not exist).

For Your Height Only begins with a montage of the main Weng in action, grasping weapons, jumping off rooftops, and being an all-around tiny bad ass. Once the montage ends, the plot picks up with the kidnapping of the brilliant Dr. Kohler by a Filipino mob for nefarious purposes, namely his formula for the A-bomb. Details of the kidnapping are relayed to Mr. Giant, the shadowy leader of the crime syndicate, by his number 2, Mr. Keiser. They speak through a special blinky mirror/intercom thing, leaving Mr. Giant faceless and mysterious (and with perfect voice dubbing).

Meanwhile, Weng Weng lounges by the pool, wearing a yellow terry-cloth robe and far-too-large sunglasses. His secret spy watch strapped to his tiny doll wrist begins blinking, so he leaves his bikinied company behind him.

On his way through the parking lot to wherever he is heading, he spies the attempted assassination of Irma, a local beauty who states that her refusal to join Mr. Giant’s crime syndicate for purposes of prostituting herself and peddling drugs has led to multiple attempts on her life.

After sending the assassin scurrying, Weng Weng and Irma begin an everlasting partnership for the next 82 minutes.

Weng Weng pumps his mini legs over to the syndicate’s crime compound and begins his assault of little kicks into the knees and genitals of many henchmen. Irma, however, prefers to go for the Adam’s apple, which she does frequently with many men.

Apart, Weng Weng and Irma are soldiers on a quest for justice, but together, they are a force to be reckoned with.

They corner one of the henchmen and demand to know where to find Columbus, one of the bosses of the syndicate.

"Talk, or you’ll eat lead!" orders Weng Weng, his dubbed voice akin to Philip Seymour Hoffman’s take on Truman Capote.

Having been told of Columbus' whereabouts (at a nearby hotel), Irma enters and pretends to offer herself to him. During this womanly deception, Junior Mint-sized Weng Weng crawls in through her legs and slides across the floor, out of view of the boss. Columbus, a bald, Morgan Freeman-looking fellow, gets up from the bed, his gun drawn, ready to shoot Irma. Weng Weng suddenly kicks himself across the floor in a glorious slide and takes a single shot, killing Columbus and knocking his own head on the wall behind him.

"Ow, my tiny head!" cries Weng Weng, grasping his softball-sized skull.

Too little for a regular bed and too big for a doll bed, Weng Weng was forced to sleep on the floor.

Later, Weng Weng goes to see a peer at his spy agency, who shows him a series of “new gadgets” to add to Weng Weng's arsenal: a gold ring that detects ALL poisons, a necklace tracking device, a very tiny machine gun, an Uncle Sam hat that ejects a dangerous blade, an ordinary-looking pen that fires bullets, a belt-buckle filled with various tools, and lastly, X-Ray sunglasses.

"I like the way you pay attention," he oddly states to Weng Weng, as he continues to tediously explain each weapon and what it does, trying best to remember all of his lines for this long, uninterrupted scene.

On his way out, Weng Weng tries out the X-Ray specs on the two cute receptionists, getting a good giggly look at their privates. Weng Weng is both a super spy and pervert. Do not bring him home to mother, unless you need the chimney cleaned.

While Irma successfully infiltrates the crime syndicate as a new member (and I have no idea how this was possible being that both Weng Weng and Irma had previously stormed their compound and killed one of the bosses), Weng Weng meets with a random woman on whom we have no information at all.

"I like ‘em little," states the woman as Weng Weng smiles. As his head is turned, the woman dumps poison into his Coke (Weng Weng’s drink of choice), and leaves him. Luckily, Weng Weng’s spanking new ring detects the poison immediately. Not caring that he was almost killed, Weng Weng drinks his remaining Coke from the bottle, and does not apprehend the woman that tried to poison him.

Say, what was that all about?

No time to explain; it's time for Weng Weng’s shirtless scene!

Ladies, clench those legs!

Irma spots the syndicate’s plot to smuggle bags of cocaine out of the country hidden in loafs of bread.

"There’s lots of dough in this dough! The butcher, the baker, and the candlestick maker!" Mr. Keiser emphatically exclaims, sounding like a hard-boiled private eye from the American 1930s.

Meanwhile, Weng Weng follows Irma’s tracking device necklace to their location and hides under the table. As the men continue their drug-smuggling operation just mere inches away, he hammers on their feet, and the men make extremely over-the-top gorilla “ouch” faces. Weng Weng then springs into action and very lightly hits each of them on the head with a bread pan, knocking them out.

Later, yet another boss, Cabbie (whom I have taken the liberty of naming myself, because I’m pretty certain the movie did not), demands to know how that "little midget" grew wise to their scheme. Someone suggests that a spy might be in their gang, but that idea is quickly and thankfully discounted for absolutely no reason.

The next afternoon, Weng Weng and Irma walk through the park hand-in-hand as she relays new information to him.

"I worry for you," says Irma in a motherly tone. "Maybe we should work together to infiltrate Mr. Giant's hideout." And then she wonderfully adds: "But you’re such a little guy, though; very petite, like a potato."

"Let’s go," Weng says, cutting her off immediately, the movie’s awful editing making it seem like he does not care for the analogy.

That night, the syndicate sweats a local businessman out of his collection of gold at one of their hideouts. The businessman, dubbed by a smarmy Frenchman, sits nervously on a crate.

Weng Weng, again following the lead from Irma, tosses a gas bomb and takes care of all the henchmen, freeing the businessman easily.

Another plot foiled by the half-pint super spy!

Spotted by members of the crime syndicate, a chase gives way in the street as Weng Weng flees in itty bitty terror. Weng Weng tosses his special hat, which hovers around the henchmen and scares them all off. The hat returns to its owner and drops on the smiling head of Weng Weng.

In yet another scene where one would assume that Irma’s cover was blown, her and Weng Weng flee from several of the henchmen following her.

"I’ll meet you later at the discothèque!" Weng shouts as the two separate. He then serves up a kid’s meal of whoop-ass, elbowing and kicking and stamping genitals like he was born to do.

Weng Weng's favorite defensive move: The Kickstand.

Weng Weng goes back to his apartment, but runs afoul of an assassin waiting in the lobby, a gun hidden in his umbrella. The assassin is easily defeated by Weng Weng, but his team of henchmen pursue him. As some of the assassin’s henchmen run up a stairwell, Weng Weng suddenly launches at them from off-screen and impossibly high, obviously being thrown by some off-camera grips. His football-sized body somehow hurtles the men to the floor, and he punches them into darkness with his fists of fury.

Weng Weng then bursts into a random room in which a hot little thing lies relaxing on the bed. Before planning a masterful escape from her balcony, he runs over to the bed and lays on this complete stranger a very intoxicating kiss. It’s so hot that they both keep their eyes open the whole time and stare at each other, as the girl’s hand delicately caresses Weng Weng’s teensy head. He then jumps off the balcony of the apartment, and using the assassin’s umbrella, softly floats to the rooftop of a jeep below.

On the way down, and shot from afar, we are treated to the sight of a very fake Weng Weng dummy attached to an umbrella as it floats to the ground, the "body" swinging haphazardly this way and that.

As promised, Weng Weng and Irma rendezvous at the discothèque, and upon exiting, attract the attention of some of the henchmen.

"Where’s that little midget?" asks one of the men.

"Probably hiding in her handbag," answers one of the men.

You laugh (or not), but it’s entirely plausible.

After getting dropped off by a taxi, Irma is kidnapped by the henchmen, apparently FINALLY seeing that it was her leaking the information about their shady dealings, and she alerts Weng Weng via the tracking device in her necklace. The boss, spotting the blinking red light in her necklace (good one, super secret intelligence agency), rips it from her neck and orders she be taken to Mr. Giant.

The boss uses the tracking device in a trap for Weng Weng and corners him in a warehouse.

"Where’s Irma?! TALK!" Weng Weng shouts, although it sounds an awful lot like:

"Where’s Irma?! FUCK!"

Weng Weng is tied up and one of the henchmen amusingly places Weng Weng very carefully in a tiny box as if he were the newborn Jesus.

Mr. Keiser communicates via blinky mirror with Mr. Giant, who sounds like he was dubbed by a middle-aged British man, and Mr. Giant says he would be pleased to have an interrogation session with Agent 00.

Not one to give up, Weng Weng uses a handy tool from his belt buckle that burns an escape hatch in the side of the box, and he easily dispatches the henchmen guarding (read: sitting on) his box.

One by one, henchmen are punched, kicked, and/or have poison darts blown into their throats, as Weng Weng gets closer to JUSTICE.

"He’s as slippery as an eel! How do you hold onto an eel?" Cabbie demands to know. "I declare war on that little stinker!"

Weng continues to cut a swath of justice on his mission to free Irma, masterfully shooting each henchman with a single bullet. He finally crosses paths with Cabbie, three times sliding across the floor and firing his gun. Out of bullets, it looks like Weng Weng may be visiting that tiny men's suit store in the sky, but as Cabbie continues to balk, Weng slides his not-so-ordinary pen into his hand from his sleeve and quickly shoots Cabbie.

The next day, Weng Weng infiltrates yet another crime compound and continues his no-holds-barred assault on the axis of evil. Weng Weng literally grabs a henchman’s gun and beats him to death with it, before firing the gun itself at a nearby guard tower’s henchman and being blown back by the gun’s trajectory.

Get it?

Cuz he’s got the stature of a baby.

Weng Weng’s tiny machine gun serves up a cold dish of MURDER to each henchman unfortunate enough to cross his path. The magic gun fires automatic rounds as well as tiny bombs, and makes short work of the way-too-many henchmen. One of those men stalks slowly down a walkway, waiting for Weng Weng to show his face...who then surprisingly does, bursting out of some bushes!

With a BOOO-I-I-N-G noise to punctuate his appearance, "kind-of-a-boner" Weng Weng shouts "here I am!" and shoots the man.

CUT TO THE DISCOTHEQUE!

Weng Weng rendezvous with another agent named Anna, also dubbed with a British voice, and collects information on Mr. Giant. During their meeting, Anna’s very rude male companion drunkenly orders her back to their table. Weng Weng then slaps this rude man into unconsciousness for close to a half hour.

"Well, hello there, little one. From what summer camp do you hail?"

Later, at Anna’s apartment, she thanks Weng Weng’s chivalry with a bit of nookie. In a scene that must have been over-dubbed while the sound technician's supervisor was on vacation, the following exchange takes place:

Anna: You’re a great person, you know.

Weng Weng: [very rushed] You know what they say, it ain’t the size, it’s the way you use it.

Anna: Maybe, but are you a sexual animal?

Weng Weng: I dunno.

Anna: I’m crazy about you, Agent 00. Why? I dunno. Maybe it’s the way you strut your stuff. Sex is like tequila. Take one sip, and you’re a goner.

Weng Weng: Shall we get it on?

Anna: Yes, darling. Bare your bod.

Seriously, there’s no way that was ever in the original script, despite how goofy the movie has been up to this point. That’s just too weird.

Sound technician whose supervisor was on vacation: I applaud you.

After the coitus, Weng Weng slides on his snappy Uncle Sam, blade-emitting hat, breaks into yet another secret location, and finds a map detailing the location of Mr. Giant, Irma, and… Dr. Kohler!

You COMPLETELY forgot about him, didn’t you?

So did I!

Weng Weng infiltrates Mr. Giant’s secret hideout on an island with the aid of Weng’s newest gadget: a jetpack! As Weng Weng wobbles back and forth on his way over the crevice and onto the island, one wonders how these genius filmmakers were able to make the strings attached to the jetpack only kind of visible, instead of obnoxiously visible.

Weng Weng FINALLY meets the infamous Mr. Giant, another midget who is still taller than Weng himself. The two midgets throw wee punches and little kicks, before the fight ends with little-person grappling and a puny gun firing mini bullets into Mr. Giant’s not-so-giant torso.

MINI DANCE PARTY!!

Meanwhile, Weng Weng’s unit storms the location and kills hundreds of henchmen all dressed in red-crested sweaters and matching berets.

Weng Weng frees Irma and Dr. Kohler as the henchmen continue to easily catch bullets in their bellies.

Know who else catches a bullet in the belly?

Irma.

"Irma!" Weng Weng shrieks, struggling to lift her heavy body to him. She dies, her last words being, “Mission accomplished!”

The movie ends with Weng Weng saluting a grave that’s assumed to be Irma’s, but whose name is blocked by flowers because they were most likely filming guerrilla style in a local cemetery.

Weng Weng may have loved and lost, but his fight isn’t over. He has many more enemies to overcome, ladies to bed, and tiny to be, and his presence in film history has only just begun.