"Kickboxer: Retaliation" How to Warrant 110 Minutes and I, the Retarded Garland

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‘Kickboxer: Retaliation’ Movie Review | David vs. Goliath

*Blog entry started on March 3, 2020

I have been in a fried state since C2E2. It was quite the learning experience. This was an experience that someone who turned 40 during it may have not been ready for. Maybe movie and pro-wrestling geekdom was too much to handle for someone who has close of 20 years of aspiration to make a mark in one of those fields.

It is good to know that I am only 15 years behind Alex Garland. His first novel was at 26 and I had not even started writing fiction until I was 27. Since "The Beach" was based on his vagabonding adventures and I am an underemployed pro-wrestler (I may not be working, but I am already open.), perhaps my mistake was abandoning "With a Capital C (working title)" to complete the script for my low-budget, pro-wrestling zom-com, "Main Event of the Dead". Feel free to email me a request for the treatment or offer advice on how to get it out of development hell at russthebus07@gmail.com. There is an order to things that I did not follow properly.

If only I knew the proper order when ending a relationship. I guess it was destiny for this blog to be hastily put together. It turns out that the amount of head trips that I had typed up was used up. Should I be worried about discussing things with about my better quarter? (Eva the Cat will always get half, but regardless of relationship status, she deserve a percentage.) There is a good chance this blog will not end up on her Facebook feed. But, I will not see her till probably after "AEW Dynamite" airs, so I might end up posting this before "the talk".

It is a new experience for me. My first relationship was in junior high, so to find out a week after the relationship started that she wanted to pursue my best friend, that was no big deal. The second relationship that started 13 years later, there was a lot of drama when it came to how it ended, but my insensitivity towards her and my ignorance about relationships were the root causes. This time around, compatibility may have just worn itself out, and that is a tough thing to accept. Hence why I want to have talk to her, it is just there are stakes this time. I am just wondering if it my ego or my heart that will be broken up.

But the lack of communication over and early bed time from her being upset that she had to fulfill the C2E2 obligations at least allows me to knock out a movie review for ninetyforchill.com. The only problem was determining movies that I have access to see, have yet to see, she might want to see (like "Paradise Hills" with Awkafina and Milla Jovovich), and what I was in the mood for. Relationship turmoil did not seem right for any Gregg Araki films.

My solution, turn that to a physical expression of turmoil in the form of "Kickboxer: Retaliation" a sequel to the 2016 reboot that I really enjoyed. Now this film was one hour and fifty minutes, so you may say, why does this qualify for a website that puts a cap on length at 97 minutes (You will never know how many movies you own that end at 1:38 until you enter an endeavor like ninetyforchill.com.)?

That is because, if you were able to establish a universe in your first film, you get to expand it in your sequels. "John Wick" was just over an 1:45. "John Wick: Chapter 2" was nearly 2 hours 10 minutes. Did we complain about that? No, because Jonathan earned it.

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

Too long, too drunk to tweet, the good or bad taste of "Main Event of the Dead"

A lot of self reflection (and yes I know my to my true friends find that redundant) about the lack of knowing myself [maybe I'm the one...sad "The Matrix" reference I know and since fat people exist (I am working on removing myself from their numbers), we are really in the real world] has consumed my thoughts of late.  I was about to have posted an edited an e-mail to my ex-girlfriend who was not from Morton Jr. High School requesting her to think of me as less of a dick, but thankfully the inability to state my most recent, potentially tasteless thought in 140 characters has resulted in me questioning the exploitation of the people whom beyond CM Punk who make pro wrestling relative.

To help promote "Main Event of the Dead" and a Kickstarter project for it, I was thinking about doing the Zombie Crawl (June 10, 2012 Farmington Road, Peoria, IL) with Road Warrior Hawk face paint.  It would just be cheaper that putting one of my lucha libre mask though hell.

I mean, I have bastardized the legend of Black Shadow enough when I created my DIY Union Jack mask for "El Futbol Loco."  Do I really want to tear up an El Santo mask?  I just talked myself out on  modifying it for Rabbit Mask (or Killer Cottontail, your choice).

I suppose I could try to get a Blue Blazer mask, but that would definitely be too much.  Suppose I could get away with Black Tiger though.  How many Smarks are out there really?

No, "Main Event of the Dead (Feel free to ask for a script treatment at russthebus07@gmail.com)" will not feature zombified tributes to wrestling greats, but if any hack writer can make money off Chris Benoit why cannot I, a clinically depressed, nonjudgmental fan like myself make a buck?

That iss because I am a man of good taste (I said I was having an identity crisis, not arrogance).  Still, if I could paint up a Steen or Richards in some white make up to pay tribute to perhaps the best technical wrestler since WM III, would people really be that upset?

"Main Event of the Dead" script does not have any characters inspired by the guys who get pro wrestling a line on the CNN ticker, but do fans want to see that?  Pro wrestling is a rather shameless business, so, as a guy who appreciated New York taking Katie Vick as far as they could, should I consider being totally shameless?

To be true to my liberal, socialist ideals, no.  But, I may run out of ideas.

Zombie Stall...Any pointers on anxiety?

My life seems to be dependent upon fiction.  Or is it the other way around?

I am passing up a big opportunity to spread the word about my screenplay, but I cannot bring myself to participate in the Third Annual Zombie Crawl in Peoria.  Anime fans are lacking among my friends, so I cannot blame it on "Welcome to the NHK," I just have to come to the realization that I'm just a helpless fanboy, and it is affecting all aspects of my life.

I say all aspects of my life since "Main Event of the Dead" is the only thing that proves my life has meaning.  Again, just like the Japanese cartoon.  At least when my life was surrounded by heroin addiction related media, I at least was pseudo strung out not to pay as much attention to my futility.

I am in a weird place right now.  It is not getting to know myself, it's about knowing why I can be such a mess.  Because of this, I start to learn what I can and cannot do.  Like why I treat my wrestling career like a Floridian believing it is better to have a vegetable on life support than a child who can breath on its own.  Great thing I have this blog to write about how I am like a Morton moron (cannot resist alliteration to describe a local cocky conservative).

Stupid still to mock my right wing friends, since I am relying on my friends to get this movie going.   Then again, I doubt they will help.  They should not be big on charity.

They maybe right this time.  I may need a miracle.  But because that I cannot be stagnant and wait for god to pick my number when he skips so many, I am begging for some pointers to get over my fear of crowds.

Hopefully it is just a fear of crowds...sorry...hordes of zombies.

If you cannot get some nonprescription methods to overcome anxiety, then maybe a C-note or two when my Kickstarter project starts.

Better close this recent blog out for now.  May need to continue it on http://harshside.com.

Resident Evil, Point Break and Why They Make Me Yearn for Anime

Summer 2009:

Some would say with the recent purchase of the Milla Jovovich vehicle "You Stupid Man" and my last three "thank god big sis is in bed, I got be up when?" flicks have been:

1. "Resident Evil"
2. "Resident Evil: Apocalypse" (I like to keep my sequels Russell Mulcahy free)
3. "Point Break" - a film featuring Lori 'What fuck'n reason can prevent her from getting billed ahead of Gary "not Buddy Holly" Busey' Petty

That I am just missing the good times I had with the last girl who tried ruining my life who is not my mother. But I say, it is simply because the American distribution of anime is messed up.

Here are some tweets to support that from http://twitter.com/russthebus

• Can anyone clue me into some great anime? I'd like to expand my late nite DVD selection beyond action movies.
  
• Anime usually promises you action, and even if it doesn't deliver. The good ones will still draw you in.
  
• Like Sailor Moon and Gravitation, the one about the up and coming rock star who discovers his sexuality. Gayest Tweet ever???

In high school, I would d save up what ever money I could mooch of my parents (basically skipping the popcorn and soda when I saw movies with the pals) to save up $30 to watch the next great anime. Most of them were action (I should say bad ass bitches who kick ass and just might get naked), and mecha (action with the awkward high school kid I could relate to), but you see previews before the tapes where animation can just tell mature tales (at least 13 and up).

Since there was no cheap publication to keep me up on anime, I would usually buy what was on the previews. Action filled or not, I made it a point to wait and treat myself after everyone went to bed to these films. Hope it was loud enough (and what anime is not) to get me a little bit pumped while feeling like I was an accomplished film connoisseur.

The truth is I am an action fan. No, they are not as good as my favorite directors (Boyle, Tarantino, Scorsese, Smith), but I got to really sit down and make it a point to appreciate the art. Good action is usually so loud and ridiculous that you forget about caring. Caring as a reaction to "Dolph just jumped over the speeding car with Yakuza gunfire...really?" does not cross my mind. Give me a gimmick, and if you play it up, you have me at Arnold's first obscenity.

Sadly, action movies do not encourage me to go and buy romantic dramedies, unlike anime. And since we get maybe one good action flick on a quarterly basis ("Watchmen", "Terminator Salvation") I am not made to ponder the rest of the live-action world. Since celebrity is all about who hot, who their sleeping with, and why did they let them tape it, is there a reason to seem enthralled with features that have physical depth?

So, I am left sticking to weird and cute faces. Milla, Lori, Arnold (after 25 years, can I really take it seriously?). Unfortunately, I cannot return to anime easily, because they made it to easy.

I loved the anticipation of getting the latest one-hour tape of "Evangelion". Overpriced, but I was left feeling dedicated to something. A feeling of elitism. But now, you just have to stay up late and watch cable to feel like a fan. Fans who just have to catch bits and peaces of a series as they wait for the inexpensive season/series boxset.

Where is the fun in that? The anime does not belong to you, it now belongs to the distributor. That just does not feel right.

It feels like I'm living in a world that just waits for the greatest hits album instead of lining up at 12:00 am on a Tuesday morning for the new album that cannot possibly capture why you became curious with the band in the first place.

There just seems to be a lack of excitement in entertainment, and it is because the fan does not want to make it exciting. If there is chaos at an event, it is because the people creating it are brainwashed into doing so.

Can anyone else come up with another way to explain "Twilight", The Jonas Bros., and super success of a Cyrus? All I'm saying is do not let anime end up like this.

The failure of "Dragonball's" live-action adaptation (take that white Goku) gives me hope that otakuism will stay weird, but the Cubs fan in me will keep me paranoid.

And that is s why I've stayed away from "Princess Nine".

Slumdog Millionaire, or how I got started writing reviews for ICC

Slumdog Millionaire

Since his first international success with 1996’s Trainspotting, director Danny Boyle has been working diligently to deliver a film that would make him more than a once hip British filmmaker. The Oscars’ Best Picture nominee, "Slumdog Millionaire", is not only a brilliant film, but definite proof that he is among the most influential directors of his generation if not this century.

"Slumdog Millionaire" is Simon Beaufoy’s adaptation of Vikas Swarup’s novel "Q & A" which was inspired by a true story about an uneducated, young man from the Mumbai slums and his unlikely success on India’s translation of the now iconic game show "Who Wants to be a Millionaire". For Boyle, it is one of the few times he has worked on a film not written with the involvement of Alex Garland or John Hodge, but the theme that some things are “Written” is a plot that is common in most of his films. This film might be the most acceptable offering of this message Boyle had directed.

Accused of cheating after the first show ends, Jamal Malik (Dev Patel) is held by the police and forced to endure aggressive interrogation to either confess to cheating or explain how he could possibly answer questions that not even the top professor in India can answer. As the overly truthful Jamal tells how every answer to each question was earned through the life experience he and his brother Salim (Madhur Mittal) gained from trying to survive the slums of India since their childhood, in an effort to fulfill his destiny to be with his childhood’s best friend Latika (Frieda Pinto).

The film definitely belongs to Danny Boyle, but the other elements cannot be ignored. The acting is strong, especially from the children who portray the young Jamal and Salim. Its story encompasses so many heart-wrenching moments, the viewers accept Jamal as their own while maintaining a comedic balance to allow the viewer to relate with Jamal. Because of this balance, it might be considered appropriate for any mature child.

It is also easy to appreciate since it is based in one of the most westernized Central Asian countries. Despite a good deal of it is in Hindi, the foul taste of subtitles is lost. It may be a foreign experience, but at no time does it feel like a foreign film. This may explain the lackluster premiere in Mumbai despite the fact that Boyle made his best effort to recognize India’s love for and the influence of Bollywood.

Danny Boyle’s contribution to this grand equation is his ability to find a way to capture everything that he wants a scene to show. His pans from the Jamal to the supporters never abandon the character we must maintain our focus on despite the hero may not even be in the shot and his ever improving use of montages show why there are always great expectations whenever he offers the world a new film. These montages have been mastered to the point that he seems to have an absolute control over time, something rarely seen in motion pictures and perhaps never at this level.

To give it the final touch of a Boyle film, the eastern electronic score of A.R. Rahman and soundtrack (comprised mostly by the songs of M.I.A.) give it the grand audio experience that is expected of any of his films. It is not for those who enjoy the more classical style of John Williams and James Horner, but it does not necessarily take away from the film.

Slumdog Millionaire is the defining work of director Danny Boyle. The fans of Boyle will appreciate this film for showing how brilliant he is as a director, and Oscar should drive the cautious film goer to see this work of near perfection.

www.imdb.com