METAMORPHOSIS

Nature's crazy.

SURPRISE DENOUEMENT

I consider myself a mature person. Not in the sense that I'm stuffy and bitter and don't approve of ass humor, but in the sense that I like to think I make sound and logical decisions. I exercise good common sense. I think reasonably, and attempt to keep all emotion out of my decisions about and reactions to certain developments that pop up in my life. That, to me, is the actual sign of maturity. 

So, having said that, I'm allowed to laugh at whatever I want, and in whatever situation I so choose.

The Phantom Carriage is a phenomenal film. Serious film buffs should definitely seek it out if they have not yet made themselves familiar. Considering its age, you can likely find a public domain version somewhere on Internet to stream for free, but I'd advise you to check out the Criterion version to experience the film alongside the experimental film score created by artist KTL, which really makes the film much more eerie and unnerving.

Because I'm lazy, here's a copy-and-pasted synopsis:

The last person to die on New Year's Eve before the clock strikes twelve is doomed to take the reins of Death's chariot and work tirelessly collecting fresh souls for the next year. So says the legend that drives The Phantom Carriage (Körkarlen), directed by the father of Swedish cinema, Victor Sjöström. The story, based on a novel by Nobel Prize winner Selma Lagerlöf, concerns an alcoholic, abusive ne'er-do-well (Sjöström himself) who is shown the error of his ways, and the pure-of-heart Salvation Army sister who believes in his redemption. This extraordinarily rich and innovative silent classic (which inspired Ingmar Bergman to make movies) is a Dickensian ghost story and a deeply moving morality tale, as well as a showcase for groundbreaking special effects.

Being that this is a Swedish film, the occasional intertitle card that pops up on screen is, quite obviously, in Swedish.

By now, you have to be wondering where all of this is going.

Well, here's my point:

At the end of the film, in which lead bastard David Holm has learned the error of his ways and breaks down crying in front of his wife, the film ends, on a powerfully emotional note. We're overjoyed to learn that he is a changed man. He's been reunited with his family. Everything is going to be okay again.

We cut to black. 

"The End" pops up on the screen, but obviously, it doesn't specifically say "The End," but instead, the Swedish translation of "The End."

Which is:

Thank you, and good night.

SPECIAL PRESENTATION

LEVITY

BORDER CROSSING

There was a couple from Texas who were planning a weekend trip across the Mexican border for a shopping spree. At the last minute their babysitter canceled, so they had to bring along their two-year-old son with them. They had been across the border for an hour when the boy got free and ran around the corner. The mother tried to find him, but he was missing. The mother found a police officer, who told her to go to the gate and wait. Not really understanding the instructions, she did as she was told. About 45 minutes later, a Mexican man approached the border, carrying the boy. The mother ran to him, grateful that he had been found. When the man realized it was the boy's mother, he dropped him and ran. The police were waiting for him. The boy was dead, and in the 45 minutes he was missing, he had been cut open, all of his organs removed, and stuffed with bags of cocaine. The man was going to carry him across the border, as if he were asleep.

REVIEW: LIZARDMAN

Haha. What is this?

Man, I swear...one just never knows what's going to show up in one's mailbox. And something like this...something called LIZARDMAN (a title that deserves to be shouted)...well, it's not something I'd normally watch.

"Oh, lord," I'd normally say, "some dude running around in the cheapest Creature From the Black Lagoon knock-off costume? I'd rather eat a hot dog from Sonic."

But, why couldn't I put it down? Why, when I should have thrown it in the drawer where I keep all the other screeners I've either watched or for which I couldn't even muster up the enthusiasm to watch, did I tear the plastic off this thing and give it a watch?

I still don't know, but I'm kinda/sorta glad I did.

First things first:

Haunted by a terrifying incident in his past, billionaire Bill Hansen seeks revenge by capturing his nemesis—the scaly crypto-creature known as the Lizardman. Enlisting a team of mercenaries and a television personality, Bill sets out to prove to the world that the Lizardman really exists. But when the creature breaks loose at a press conference, all plans are off as the bloodthirsty monster wreaks havoc on the city of Los Angeles.

LIZARDMAN is that puppy who shits in your shoe. (I think I've used this analogy before, but, just go with it.) You want to be mad at it. You don't want to think logically that the puppy is small, still learning, and, my favorite, means well. Your emotional side takes over and you throw out all the calm rationale; instead, you just want to know: "why is this puppy fucking with me?"

Well, I want to know: Why is LIZARDMAN fucking with me? What is it doing inside my head right now? Why does it deviate from overly camp to something being executed with a completely straight face? Is it...joking? Is it trying? Is it doing both, or neither? Is this even happening? Hey, where am I? (Jack Handey, for the win.)

Director Peter Dang (awesome name) hails from the school of Fred Olen Ray, so that should at least offer up a hint as to the thought process behind LIZARDMAN. Camp? Sincerity? Trash? Treasure? Gay? Straight? Canadian? Communist? Libertarian? 

LIZARDMAN refuses your labels. It refuses your attempted cataloging. It simply is. It exists. And it's about a man-tall mutant lizard running around North Carolina (and then, later, L.A.) Everything about LIZARDMAN is cheap. Hilariously cheap. You'll recognize no one, marvel at not a single special effect, and not ask yourself a single time, "Gee, how'd they do that?"

But there's no denying LIZARDMAN is fun. It scratches that itch you didn't know you had. Fans of both Z-grade trash as well as "so bad it's good" connoisseurs will certainly find something to enjoy. Never boring, never testing the boundaries of what's "too" straight-faced ridiculous, and surprisingly, at no points poorly made (except for that awful CGI blood), LIZARDMAN is actually worth a damn.

Watch it. Point and laugh, or point and blow kisses. Enjoy it.

One more time, for the cheap seats:

LIZARDMAN!

LIKE GIANTS