Essential Athletes and the Carnival Slide feature "Nemesis"

*Blog post started on May 20, 2020.

I think we are in dire need for sports right now. Sorry John Oliver (I have yet to watch the May 17th episode of "Last Week Tonight"). Performance art is something I deem essential because there are not enough stories about uxori/mariticide with wine-drinking accessories or armed robbery involving fruit.

Too bad Monty Python is down to three inoffensive members. You need at least four to perform an updated "How to Defend Your Against Fresh Fruit" sketch. With Carole Baskin and the NRA, it would be quite topical.

With sports, I at least have something to talk about with the guys at work. As an underemployed pro-wrestler (My gear bag is still in the trunk of my car if you need someone to do a favor.), I can handle only performing in front of my peers. No pressure from the crowd meant I could focus on just having fun and my performances were usually better. As long as you got the boys/girls from the locker room providing immediate feedback at ringside, you know what directions to take. At least AEW is showing us that.

At my current, essential job, there is a chance I can be exposed to COVID-19 by my coworkers, but as long as we are not sneezing or licking the cash and receipts, our customers are quite safe. The point is, when the risk is only applies to the staff while all conceivable precautions are taken (I can see the Cubbies wearing masks.), the performers should be allowed to perform. Provided they feel safe performing of course. I just know there are those who would be happy to.

As for my stance about the lockdown, to channel my Maynard James Keenan: Fuck your God, your lord and your haircuts. Learn to appreciate your liquor stores and iTunes.

It is way too easy to get through well organized news websites. Sorry New York Times (Having your website look like and actual newspaper does not work.). I suppose the answer to that is to just binge TV shows to provide me something to write about or really step up my movie consumption. 

The problem with TV is the episodic nature. This means to judge it fairly, I need to review each episode. Episodic programming is way too accessible now, unlike the good old days of anime fandom where I got a two episode tape a month (probably closer to weekly) and could quit buying tapes if I got bored.

A bad episode review, and I could move on to the next show. When the next episode is set to autoplay, I will think to myself, "Maybe it is just the storytelling method, so lets go another hour."

As for watching more movies, I am cursed by the fact that the established great directors and the blockbuster dependent all think there story requires more than 1 hour and 37 minutes (give or take A MINUTE). My website dedicated to the ideal runtime ninetyforchill.com needing content results in me having to watch films of lesser quality. Being an aspiring screenwriter/producer (If you would like a treatment of my zombie comedy about pro-wrestling "Main Event of the Dead" feel free to email russthebus07@gmail.com for a copy. Any suggestions on how to get the project out of development hell would also be appreciated.), the effort displayed to make a great film with so many obstacles is appreciated, but one can only watch so much zombie-free George A. Romero, Christopher Lambert, or less than 1980's Newline Cinema budgeted movies per week.

Despite the struggle, there is no excuse for me not to watch at least one questionable sub 100-minute feature and Amazon Prime has got the algorithm down. They offer me so much stuff that is up my alley, I really wish they would list the directors in the information about them. Fortunately, since I just bought "Iron Eagle", a Tim Thomerson film seemed appropriate. Throw in a knock off Van Damme in Olivier Gruner along side Cary-Hiroyuki Tagawa, and I think we have a project with potential. As the credits rolled and "An Albert Pyun Film" appeared, hopes arose that 1992's "Nemesis" was going to make my week.

Nemesis

Check out the rest of review at "Ninety For Chill: A More Acceptable Runtimes

Call Me Suitcase and Where was Queen's 1986 Oscar Nomination?

*Blog post started on May 19, 2020.

You figure with Florida allowing a few sports, things would finally get exciting again on the Internet. I have to wonder why I am complaining. Aside from morons protesting at state capitals to be free to kill everybody, be it with firearm or COVID-19, things are just in a holding pattern until the election. With 60% of the population actually giving a shit about their fellow human, we do not actually have to deal with any of theses assholes.

If anything, I worry about not being angsty enough to be prepared to burn this country down in the event of a Trump reelection and the Republicans maintaining control of the Senate. But, the response on Twitter to my most recent published blog "Infrequent Online Daters and Right-Wing Twitter Haters (like @shurriep)" is something I have yet to review. There are still two more days of retweeting during wrestling show hours, so there is no need to rush in seeing what kind of memes these deplorables will bombard me with if they feel insulted.

The truly insulting thing will be that they will not take the time to read any of it. At least finish the lighter portion of it to get around to calling me: 

1. A snowflake in need of validation from the opposite sex. Or
2. A faggot who just needs to accept that I like the cock instead of being a decent and considerate in terms of courting, you know "queer" stuff.

and thus my opinions about their mental states matter not, since I am the one lying to myself, like anyone who feels attacked would do to avoid considering changing their ways.

With nothing going on in terms of events, Twitter bullshit is seeming the only thing the Internet has to offer. The bank's firewalls allow for some work arounds to visit some social media, but it is not worth my job status to exploit them (frequently). Unless there are some horrific tales about the abuse of the downtrodden, it does not take long to get through all the news websites. Fortunately, "The Ringer" did have a pleasant distraction from the weekend.

The articles are now buried by "Game of Thrones" fan-fiction and articles about how the series concluding was the death of pop culture, but they had some fun stuff about 1986's "Top Gun" since the sequel "Top Gun: Maverick" was supposed to be released last Friday. I had fun being directed to topgunday.com from the call sign ranking article and finding out the bank staff's generated nicknames (Best: Goldenrod. Mine: Suitcase.), but the essay that really got my brain stimulated was the comparison of the original film to David Lynch's "Blue Velvet" by Brian Phillips called "The Subversive Sameness of ‘Top Gun’ .

Phillips's work discussed the dependency upon Oldies (I would say Classic Rock was when The Beatles started using psychedelics.) and how they both tell tales of young men growing up with surrogate parental figures. One was for the Reagan fans. The other for the open-minded. It took me a while to appreciate the latter (I reside in Champaign, so Roger Ebert's opinion has more weight with me than most.), but I did purchase it eventually. "Top Gun" was everywhere growing up and I watched the WYZZ's volleyball-free edit many a time, but as a kid, I always appreciated "Iron Eagle" more, so to spend money on a lack of Tom Cruise hetero chemistry was/is a no go.

When comparing Gun to Eagle, I got to give my two cents about aircraft. The F-14 Tomcat with its sling-wing gimmick was cool, but give me the F-16. Mach 2 with one engine and no need for a navigator (Radar Intercept Officer for you military buffs) sounds better. Goose and Meg Ryan would live happily ever after despite Iceman pulling off so abruptly.

I really should not get into fighter jet arguments. It was a preadolescence fascination, but not being as smart at engineering nerds, flashbacks of being mocked for my preferences arise. In the end, Fuck the F-18 hornet for going Matt Hardy on the F-14 and making me seem dim to guys who cannot throw a punch.

And after all this "Top Gun" revisionist history, I really need to get myself "Iron Eagle" in high def. Is it a great movie? No, but I would venture to say it was as fun as "The Last Starfighter". Maybe I just needed sequels to "Starfighter" to eliminate the need for a ridiculous story about rescuing your dad from pseudo-Libyans.

Are there right-wing nuts who have a greater appreciation for Eagle because of that? Fucking Benghazi. Those conservative cocksuckers would have obviously missed the point on "Iron Eagle" if that was the case.

Perhaps the Louis Gossett Jr. franchise was a subconscious trigger for my rebellious side. The military's authority was the true antagonist in all of the films. The films were about doing the right thing, not being part of the establishment. 25 years removed, I wonder how many oil fields Maverick has torched without rescuing anyone? Doug at least got one of us back.

And that is another thing that justifies "Iron Eagle V" instead of "Top Gun II". Your protagonists are Chappy and Doug. They do not need those overly masculine call signs. The best call sign was Goose. It was not anything overly aggressive. And that is why he was offed. Was it not?

As I type all this up, the songs from the Tony Scott film's are playing through my head. I had a tendency to buy soundtracks for movies my parents were hesitant to let me see ("La Bamba" was my first cassette.). It is a solid soundtrack, at least the A-side. The B-side at least has Steve Stevens's "Top Gun Anthem", but Giorgio Moroder was lacking, so I would end up listening to "Danger Zone" and flipping over the cassette if I really needed the best guitar track of that decade. This leads me to wonder if I needed more of a compilation soundtrack instead, like the jet movie OST with Dio, Twisted Sister, George Clinton, and MOTHERLOVING QUEEN.

In all seriousness, the cohesive nature of Giorgio Moroder is more worthy of $13 bucks (that's the price of CD's now. Right?), but I do appreciate the masculine vibe of the other soundtrack. Neither film is for the ladies. What I appreciate more is "One Vision" over "Take My Breath Away" though Berlin's song with that title is better than the Freddie Mercury penned "You Take My Breath Away". Symphonic and rocking kicks the shit out of any ballad.

I now realize I downplayed the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Science crime from 1986. Where were Mercury, May, Deacon and Taylor's gold statuette. Especially when the best soundtrack of that year was that of "Highlander" (Sorry David Bowie's "Labyrinth"). It was bad enough overlooking "Flash Gordon" six years prior.

"Top Gun" was propaganda for its time. Do we really need a Trump-themed time capsule via a sequel? Gossett's stock in on the uptick after "Watchmen", so give me "Chappy Rides Again." Or better yet, let us have an "Iron Eagle" reboot with Barack Obama as the titular father figure. How could anyone pass that up?

I may have to listen to Queen + Adam Lambert's request for fried chicken before determining if that would be worth greenlighting.

Behance.com - Going Back for Dad.

"Versus": Dead Alive with Wires

It is hard to pin down what "Versus" is. A modern samurai flick, a wire-fu film a year removed from "The Matrix", another foreign zombie flick, etc. Japanese director Ryuhei Kitamura (whose best known American film is "Clive Barker's The Midnight Meat Train") throws so much into his films that you are bound to like something from each of them and appreciate his directorial style, but being able to wade through this stew maybe difficult.

Two prisoners have escaped and made it to the rendezvous point in the Forest of Resurrection. The gangsters they meet up with are a wild bunch who were instructed to pick these guys up after they kidnapped a woman. Prisoner KSC2-303 is a feminist and being unable to tolerate the arrangement, he uses his martial skills to dispatch one of this crew. His efforts soon turn out to be futile because that guy does not stay dead.

During the confusion over this undead compatriot, KSC2-303 makes a break for it with the woman. Now the gangsters must catch these two (whom their employer has special plans for) in the forest where they buried most of their victims. If you thought the Fire Swamp was tough, this place has more than ROUS to deal with.

"Versus" is a fast and furiously paced film until story becomes involved. It is fun and has a sense of humor, but it is because there is zero exposition until the latter half of act two.

For 80 minutes of being an homage to all the great Hong Kong genres, it slams the brakes to put some nationalism into the story. The story does pick up again to set up the finale, but the return to a samurai film makes it a bit anticlimactic. It is a clash of styles that only worked in "Kill Bill".

Mixing so many styles may require an expert filmmaker. This was Kitamura's first full-length feature. It is not as mature as "Meat Train", but his mastery of lighting is present and his mis en scene is dead on. He later abuses these traits in his Clive Barker adaptation, but his skill cannot be denied. He just was not ready for such complex projects.

"Versus" is an example of Ryuhei Kitamura's ability to make fun movies. He did not know at this point how to make a great film, but he definitely has the skill set. Kitamura is like Michael Bay except he can direct. If you think about a watching a Bay flick, immediately turn to his Asian equivalent.

IMDb - Versus (2000)

https://www.imdb.com/title/tt0275773/

Infrequent Online Daters and Right-Wing Twitter Haters (like @cb27words).

*Blog started on May 14, 2020.

Lockdown seems to have finally stagnated, and I do not think that is too bad. Yes, I am working an essential job (It is essential enough that having a third banker present would be nice. Old people calling in expecting full percentage points on investments at community banks or asking about their balances on a daily sometimes hourly basis can make taking care of the two drive thru lanes tough at times. At least 85% are decent enough folks.), so I have some sort of routine.

My ex is trying to develop a routine and get her future in order, so me time has become a thing again. It is worth being constantly questioned about why I am not depressed about moving out. Her cat is not going to be around, so I am just trying to focus on the positive. I am going to miss my little brother.

May 15, 2020:

One of my coworkers is trying to finish up a final history paper and there have been a few moments where we have acted like her research team. What I have gathered can be used to promote communism when she asked us to try and find out the literacy rate of Shanghai, China in 1920. No communist party, no concern for the lower classes, hence not even Google could not come up with that answer. At least there were those looking for a solution. Determining whether or not she should refer to the citizens of the U.S.S.R as Soviets or Russians did not require that much effort.

As she is writing, she said she might just go back and change the thesis, so her fellow student asked her if she liked to start writing and then determine the thesis as the message is being flushed out. It made me realize that is pretty much how I write without a movie review to post about. Which lead me to determine that I am not going to have one for May 18th and that I better keep the mood light instead of composing 40 miles of bad road to get to questionable 80's horror. Sad, because after my anti-right rant, I could have gone with "@adampiersen's Twitter Galaxy of Terror" as a title.

When it comes to headaches, the mildest is this new-fangled online dating game. My mom tells me my biological little brother found someone on Match.com. I responded by asking, "which one of them is paying for it?" We are in lockdown. Dating is not really feasible at this time. But with SnapChat and everyone wanting to communicate via that now, it is just difficult to measure out if you are doing too little or too much.

I am one who does not need constant communication with people (Which my ex fears she is losing a friend after we move away from each other. I am not abandoning my fluffy little brother.), but once I get a streak going, I am at a lost when they break it. At the retailer, at the bars, what I have observed is the millennials are obsessed about keeping them going. This does excuse the one I am focused on most since she is a fellow member of Gen-X, but she was the one showing off the goods. On the bright side, I have more and more pics of myself to post on my Twitter feed(s) (@russthebus, @maineventzombie, @catbusruss [to squat on the handle and use to retweet notifications from my main account {The on meant to promote the production of my B-movie "Main Event of the Dead" a pro-wrestling zombie comedy. Email russthebus07@gmail.com for a story treatment or suggestions on how to get the project out of development hell.} because it seems early too have 10,000 tweets] to assure the hateful that I am more real and more brave than they are.

The true migraine is taking the fight to conservative Twitter trolls. That can take its toll. Right wingers who are failed wordsmiths make it tough to know when to just step away from the "dialogue". A constant tactic when I call out assholes who use their feed to applaud Donald Trump for picking on Asians is to throw up a race card meme when I asked how it is not racist to track AOC and Ilhan Omar just to tell them to shut up while ignoring Elizabeth Warren's tweets. I questioned, "Is it a win that at least they are not being sexist?", you eventually get a sand in the mangina comment.

They seem like they are out to disprove any acknowledgement that they may not be so bad. Or they are correcting me and want me to know that they hate anyone who is not male that refuses to be submissive. Are they are demonstrating their dedications to the Constitution circa 1789 when sexism and racism were not even considered?

And then they say that its the left that spread the hate. You provide them an opportunity to be compassionate, and its fuck those people. At least that was when I responded to @laddielone's meme by juxtaposing their (I do not want to assume the pronouns) profession (high school athletics coach) with the anonymity Twitter provides them.

Surely their views cannot be offensive and that a patriot like themselves feel like they need not earn recognition as they have no media to prove they are even real. It cannot possibly be because they are an objectively hateful or envious individual whom, if they chose to post a pic of themselves instead of bitching about politics, would risk losing their livelihood of mentoring children. I could go on about how I could find their employer after sifting five months of bullshit, but that just feels petty.

If you are curious, these anonymous Twitter users make up at least 80% of the commenters. These lazy shits will not take the time to post a generic white person clip art of "themselves" at least once on their account to try and camouflage their foul scent. Or is that how Twitter determines who the bots are?

I do not know about you, but I would take dealing with 10 bots on Twitter than giving a single true hate mongers a platform. At least with a bot, you know it cannot feel empathy. Providing homes for sociopaths should not be Twitter's concern. That is the responsibility of the Republican party be it Senate or House seats via voter restrictions of subsidies to farmers to keep them alienated from the urban dwellers. And with the agriculture industry being predominantly white, they set politics and fashion that the trailer park residents will emulate.

Right Wing Watch - Twitter - @RightWingWatch

"The Girl Who Played with Fire": The Girl Reloaded

"The Girl Who Played with Fire" is an intriguing picture since it solely focuses on the brilliant character of Lisbeth Salander, but it makes one wonder what author Stieg Larsson was thinking. How did you know there was interest in a sequel to an unpublished novel?

Lisbeth Salander has returned to Stockholm and all hell breaks loose. There is no time to reconnect with old friends because she is the prime suspect in three murders. Two were a couple that were preparing an article about sex trafficking based around a Russian named Zala. This article was going to be published in Mikael Blomquist's "Millennium" magazine. The other victim was Lisbeth's legal guardian, sadistic pig and rapist.

The only evidence points to Lisbeth, so the only investigator on her side is Blomquist, who must find Zala before Lisbeth because of the extremes the suspect is willing to go through to torture her may be too much for even her to handle.

"The Girl Who Played with Fire" shows the literary genius that Larsson possessed. For a writer who did not publish his "Millennium Trilogy", he knew what was the most interesting element of his first volume, Ms. Salander. It was either wise forethought or he was absolutely in love with the character.

It also makes on wonder how, with limited feedback, he knew he could write a third book. The mystery behind this trilogy is probably worth an anti-right wing film.

J.R.R. Tolkien's story from "The Fellowship of the Ring" was not concluded. The problem with Larsson's method is that writing a trilogy all at once means you have the ending figured out, which is odd because of the conclusion of "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" seemed to have finality. If he felt he needed to write three books, he decided to spread this new tale over two volumes. Pacing goes to hell, at least that is how it works in the movies ("The Lord of the Rings", "The Matrix", "Pirates of the Carribean").

I suppose this makes the series worth a read just to compare and contrast the two entertainment mediums. Did Larsson write this knowing that it would be Millennium's "Attack of the Clones"?

Lets make one thing clear. Noomi Rapace is the anti-Hayden. This film is really good. It is a great story because we discover who Salander is beneath her hard exterior. But the drama is not as deep as its predecessor with more of an emphasis on action sequences. It is a long, strange trip compared to the first film, but not a difficult one.

Rapace is intriguing and Michael Nyqvist ups his game with his reprisal of Mikael Blomkvist. There are also enough unique new characters that fill out the cast which is something most of the Vangers from the first film were not.

"The Girl Who Played with Fire" has laid the ground work for a potentially awesome conclusion, but pales in comparison to its predecessor. It is good, but does not have the cerebral games of the first. Great performances allow this film to be worthwhile, but the open-ended nature holds it back.

This feature is for those enthralled by Lisbeth Salander, so one may have to love "The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo" to be able to enjoy it. Since everyone should hold the character in high regard, it should not be a problem for anyone to give this film a chance.

Tacoma Film Club

https://tacomafilmclubannex.wordpress.com/2010/11/07/the-girl-who-played-with-fire-924-broadway/

90-min Prime Video: "C.H.U.D." Timely Pandemic Horror

*Blog post started on May 7, 2020.

If there was any sense of optimism from the last journal (90-Min Amazon Prime: "Wild Card' and Jason Statham vs. William Goldman), I think that had dissipated over the last week. Hoping that I could just use the stimulus check to run off to a land of debauchery was a fleeting idea and my density or inexperience with SnapChat shot down a coping mechanism. On the bright side, there seems to be a sense of order. If only that was not two months away.

My life just seems to jump between frustration and boredom. The ex was dealing with a manic stretch and thus decided to stay up for 24 hours. She went to bed last night at seven to get herself back in order, so from AEW on, I had the place to myself. I could surely find time to knock off a 90-minute movie between then and Sunday evening for Monday's blog. This means it was the ideal time to venture into my unwatched Terry Gillian DVDs or anything from the Criterion Collection. Unfortunately, with high art, I want to share it like my Michel Gondry stuff. It just felt pointless and I may not have had the energy to devote that much time. Paying great attention for two and half hours seemed boring.

This makes failing to maintain the interest of a horror movie fan who seemed to like everything she saw feel worse. It made me think that I needed to spend more time in my drunk confident state. So I am lacking energy to be ready to say something hot and immediate the next time I see a woman's erogenous zones on my phone. My tendency is to try selling my cuteness, but who is buying?

I suppose I should think about being on the other side of that transaction. It is going to be hard to say goodbye to my ex's cat. Perhaps stating a financial offer for him should be my next move.

Someone has got to take care of her and this uber-empathetic cat should do. It is just great to know she is prioritizing him instead of settling into a situation where she has got to leave him with someone else. Thus explains why my stimulus is going to be spent on moving to a new place. I am just frustrated that I could not manage to figure a way to live comfortably with her. Then again, debauchery is something I have been craving. If I am living with someone comfortably, why did I break up in the first place.

Is it better to feel bored than frustrated? I suppose frustration leads to boredom. You need a break from being frustrated, but if you got nothing to do, you are going to be bored. Then you get tired of being bored and frustrated that you cannot do anything. It is chicken or the egg or the square root of negative one. We do not need that to be the blog post, so let us dive into a 1984 horror film that expresses the importance of staying inside and that could have been so much more. And at least that is frustration that will end.

C.H.U.D.

Check out the rest of review at "Ninety For Chill: A More Acceptable Runtimes